The One
by A.R. Darcangelo
Summary: America is still in the running to become the next queen of Illea - and Prince Maxon's bride - but now she has some competition. Will she be the One? Story takes place after the first three chapters of "The One" by Kiera Cass.
1. Chapter 1

**The** **One**

**Chapter** **1**:

"Maxon, this is ridiculous. I look stupid."

"No, you don't. Now hold still."

The books on top of my head crashed to the floor. I glared at Maxon who was trying to suppress laughter. I swatted at him.

"I'm pretty sure my ability to balance books on my head isn't going to win the people over, Maxon."

"No," he agreed, picking up the books off the ground. "But it will earn you points with my father. He needs convincing too, you know."

I huffed. "Yeah, I know."

"Speaking of which, I'd better start acting like a king and look over some of this paperwork. Practice for a little bit while I work on this stuff," he says sardonically.

Maxon walks behind his desk and sits down, pulling a stack of papers in front of him. I could tell he was still feeling hurt and embarrassed by what his father had said at breakfast this morning. If I wasn't trying to gain his father's favor, I would've stuck my tongue out at him right then and there.

Instead of putting the books on top of my head, I walked over to Maxon and hugged him from behind, being careful not to squeeze him too tight as I was sure his back was still healing. He visibly relaxed in my arms and leaned back.

"Are you okay? I know you are trying to help me, but is there something I can do to help you?" I asked, kissing his cheek.

"No, darling. I just wished he would trust me a little more, you know? How am I supposed to learn to run a country if he never lets me do anything?" Maxon replied. Frustration leaked into his voice.

I felt terrible. I knew that it was partially my fault that the king had said those things. I decided to try to take his mind off of it.

I plopped into Maxon's lap and put my arms around his neck. "You are going to make a great king someday," I whispered. "You care about people, Maxon."

Maxon grinned. I couldn't tell if he was grinning because of what I had said or because I was here, sitting in his lap, and I didn't get a chance to ask because he took my face in his hands and pressed his lips against mine. I felt that slow fire that I loved begin to burn through me.

He pulled away too soon. He sighed and I knew he really had to get back to work. I stood up and let Maxon's fingers linger at my waist for a moment before I walked back over to the other side of the room to pick up my books. I stacked them slowly on my head, using the glass in the grandfather clock by his bookcase as a mirror. I held out my arms and put my shoulders back slowly, and turned around and began to walk. I got all the way across the room without dropping one. I looked out of the corner of my eye to see Maxon watching me with a goofy grin on his face.

"Is His Majesty impressed?" I asked confidently.

"Yes, very impressive." Maxon's smile grew wider. "Are you going to hold your arms out like that when you walk from now on?"

I let my arms fall and slap the sides of my body. The books fell off my head.

"No. I think I'll just slouch. Is it really that bad?" I said, feeling self-conscious.

"I don't think so. Your posture is one of the last things I notice," he said, making me blush as he looked adoringly at my face.

A quick knock at his study door startles me.

"Come in," Maxon says quickly, facing the door. To my surprise, Elise walks through the door with a smile on her face. Her smile doesn't fade when she sees me, she just looks me up and down to make sure I'm wearing clothes today. At least that's what I'm guessing.

"Oh, hi America," she says kindly. "Were you in the middle of something? I just wanted to talk to Maxon for a minute, but I can come back." I notice her posture and try to mock it.

"No, no, it's fine… I'll see you later Maxon." While Elise is watching me pick up the books off the floor, Maxon tugs his ear and smiles crookedly. When Elise turns around I do the same.

I walk out of Maxon's study and down the hall to my room. I have the stack of books in my hands and almost drop them again when Kriss comes around the corner.

"Whoops! Sorry about that America. Didn't see you." She smiles at me and flips her long brown hair back over her shoulder. All the animosity from this morning is gone. I guess she decided she has forgiven me for the dress incident last night.

"That's okay. Didn't see you either." Even _her_ posture is perfect.

She eyes the books in my hands warily. "Getting some studying in?"

I decide to roll with it. "Yes, actually… One of us is going to be the only one left pretty soon. A queen has to know her foreign policy." I smile, pretty sure that one of the books I'm holding is an instructional guide to learning French, a language I already speak.

"Oh, yes, how smart of you! I should ask Maxon if I can borrow some of his books…" I'm not entirely sure if she is being honest, but at the mention of Maxon's name she practically skips down the hall towards his study. "See you later, America!"

"Bye." I say to no one.

My maids aren't in my room when I walk in, but there is a small slip of paper in my jar with the lone penny.

I plop the pile of books on my bed and open the jar, reaching inside for the slip of paper. I am just getting ready to unfold it when I stop myself. I realize that, for the first time, I am really not interested in what Aspen wants to tell me. Our last talk wasn't so great. I knew he thought me going home meant that he was my choice. But he figured out very quickly that I wanted Maxon, even if I was going home. If given the opportunity to stay, which I had, he knew I would take it in a heartbeat. I was in love, and it wasn't with Aspen.

Instead of unfolding the slip of paper, I went out to my balcony and looked over into the gardens to make sure no one was walking out and about. Not that we were really allowed to anymore without supervision anyway. But since I wasn't going to read the note, I wanted to be sure.

It was definitely winter now. Even on days like today when the sun was shining and there wasn't a cloud in the sky, I still needed to shield myself from the cold. The wind was blowing , taking the last few leaves off the trees that go bare until spring. I held out my hand, wrapped in a fist, and when a particularly strong gust of wind came, I uncurled it and let the note fly into the woods past the palace. It was so perfect for the way I felt now. My love for Aspen had been real, but with a little wind, had so easily flown away. But I still had the sun – a ray of light that I felt would burn inside me forever. And that ray of light was Maxon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for all the follows, favorites, and reviews! I am planning on finishing this before The One comes out in May.**

**A.R. Darcangelo**

Chapter 2:

When I woke up it was dark. I couldn't remember falling asleep. As soon as my eyes could focus, I looked down and saw that I was in a pair of silk pajama shorts and top, and I was _hot_.

My body felt too heavy to move, but I tried to scoot over to the cool side of the bed. When I did, I realized that the side of the bed that I had been sleeping on had to be wet because I was now shivering at the impact of the cold fabric on my damp skin. After a minute, I pushed myself up onto my elbows and lifted my head, but almost immediately had to plop back down. I reached over for the bedside table and tried to push the little button that would call for my maids, but instead my hand limply hit something that was cool and smooth to my skin before I heard it crash to the floor and shatter. The sound of glass breaking into a million pieces faded out of earshot.

I wasn't sure how long it had been, but I was sure I had drifted in and out of consciousness for a while, and my brain struggled to make a coherent thought. It felt like it was seconds later, though I am sure it was much longer, that I felt the back of a hand press against my forehead and cheeks. I tried to make out words, but they wouldn't come. I felt slight pressure on my left upper arm, then a pinch at the curve of the inside of my elbow. It was the last thing I felt before sinking into darkness for what felt like an eternity.

I heard the sound of an eraser rubbing up against paper, squeaking rhythmically. When it stopped I heard pencil against paper for a short time before the tempo picked up again.

I opened my eyes and immediately shut them at the morning light that was leaking into my room. I reopened them slowly, letting my eyes adjust. Then I smiled like an idiot.

His golden blonde hair shone in the sunlight, giving him an angelic glow. His hair was falling into his eyes, and his face was a mask of concentration. His brows were furrowed and his lips pursed as he studied whatever was in front of him. He was sitting at the table in front of my balcony doors, books and papers strewn across it, just like they normally were in his study.

He sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment. As if he suddenly realized there were eyes on him, his head snapped back up and he looked at me. Relief washed over his face.

"America!" He exclaimed, getting up in one fluid motion and rushing over to sit beside me on the bed.

"Hello, handsome," I said, my grin still bordering on the goofy side.

Maxon smiled crookedly and brought my hand up to kiss my knuckles. "How are you feeling, darling?"

"Eh. I've been better." I still felt heavy, but my brain seemed to be functioning.

He leaned over to feel my forehead and cheeks, and I realized he was the one that had come to my room last night. "How long have you been here?" I inquired.

"Since this morning. I stopped by after dinner last night because your maids had sent word that you weren't feeling well, and when I got here you were about to burn down the palace with a fever. I stayed while they put your I.V. in and then went back to my room to try to get some sleep so I could stay with you while I got some work done today. Though to be honest I didn't sleep well…" His hand had stopped at my cheek, and he was cupping it tenderly. It took me a minute to register what he had just told me.

I looked down at my arm and saw the offending needle taped to the inside of my elbow. "_Ugh_. I think I'm going to be sick."

Maxon immediately jumped up and grabbed a nearby trash can. "Here, let me help you," he offered, putting his arm under my shoulders to help me sit up.

"I didn't really mean I was going to throw up… I mean, I might…" I eyed the needle warily.

Maxon looked at the inside of my arm. "Oh." Then he smiled. He lowered me back down on the bed and put the trash can on the floor before coming to rest his elbows on either side of my body so he was hovering over me. "America Singer, are you afraid of needles? The same girl who isn't afraid to change an entire country's foundation in one night? Or knee a prince she hardly knows on their very first date? Or – "

I cut him off. "That wasn't a date. We were just having a friendly conversation. While walking around the gardens. We had already discussed my purpose in staying at that point."

He raised an eyebrow. "Maybe we shouldn't count that one. I don't know that I want to remember my first date with you as the one you decided I was trying to –"

I waved my needle free arm in the air. "Whatever. Let's not dwell on the past." I smiled up at him, and he smiled back.

I don't know how long it was that we stared into each other's eyes like that, but it took my maids bustling in with worried faces to break us apart. He kissed my forehead lightly and excused himself for lunch. He told me he would send up some potato soup and a strawberry tart if I was feeling up to it.

"Oh, miss, we were so worried!" Lucy exclaimed after Maxon had walked out of the room. She wrung her hands. "When we came in to get you ready for dinner, you were laying on the bed, still in your dress and everything –" I smiled at that. How terrible of me to fall asleep in my day dress. "– and we couldn't wake you. You were breathing, so we just got you changed and let you sleep and told the prince that you weren't well, but when he got here –" she rambled until Anne gave her a look.

"You do look like you are feeling better," Mary said, feeling my forehead the same way Maxon had.

"Yes, I feel gross though," I said, eyeing the needle again.

"I'm afraid I will have to call the doctor to remove that," Anne said, guessing what I wanted. She turned and called for the doctor.

"Oh, miss, and that nice officer from your province came by, too," said Lucy. "He was here at a rather strange hour though, but perhaps he heard that you were ill. He said to tell you to "'get well soon'". He's such a nice man." She sighed a little.

I knew she was talking about Aspen. As bad as it may sound, I was glad that my sickness had given me a nice cover up for not responding to the note he'd left in my jar. Instinctively, I glanced at my bedside table to look at it. The table had a lamp and a call button, but no jar. I whipped my head back and forth looking for it.

"Oh, are you looking for that little jar?" Mary asked. She walked around the bed and picked up the trash can Maxon had put bedside my bed. She tipped it just enough so that I could see the broken shards of glass inside. "You must've knocked it over when you were trying to press our call button. I'm sorry miss, I hope it was not sentimental." She looked at me worriedly.

I paused, not sure if I was sad. It _had_ been sentimental… but hadn't I just let go of Aspen yesterday?

"Oh, no, it's fine. It was just something to remind me of home," I told Mary. "But hopefully, this will be my home soon." I smiled gleefully at the thought, as did my maids.

The doctor bustled in to remove my needle, and while he was doing that my maids went to draw me a bath.

"Gah," I gasped when I saw my appearance in the mirror for the first time since yesterday. "I look hideous."

"You are beautiful no matter what, Lady America," Anne said. I rolled my eyes at her, and she smiled.

I gratefully sunk into the bath water, which smelled of vanilla and lavender. They washed my hair and did a simple French braid while it was still wet. When they helped me back into bed, I could smell the clean sheets. The doctor said I didn't need to have the I.V. anymore because my fever had already broken, and I was well on my way to recovering from the little bug I had acquired. I was ordered on bed rest for the next two days, which I was not happy about. But I knew at the very least Maxon would definitely be coming to see me, so I didn't complain.

As my maids were getting ready to leave my room for the evening, I asked Lucy to stay behind.

"Yes, miss?" she asked after Anne and Mary had left.

"I wanted to give you something. It was special to me… up until recently. I mean, it is special, but it doesn't hold the same significance to me that it used to. I would like for you to have it," I stated with certainty. I held out my hand, and put the previously sticky penny that had been at the bottom of my jar into Lucy's palm.

Lucy looked at the penny. "A tip?" she asked awkwardly.

"No, no, no. Not a tip. A gift. Something that once meant something to me, but now I hope will mean something to you." I knew she couldn't possibly know the double meaning in my words, but I hoped that someday they would be true.

Lucy smiled, understanding that it was just something I wanted her to have, and she would have it no matter what happened to me. "Thank you, Lady America. You are a princess. It doesn't matter what anyone else says," she whispered. She leaned over and gave me a hug, and I squeezed her back.

We stayed like that, not as an Elite and her maid, but as a friend and an ordinary girl, for a long moment. It took me several seconds to realize Maxon was standing at my door, beaming with adoration.

Lucy sensed his presence, and gave a quick salutation and curtsey before giving me a kiss on the cheek and bidding me good night.

Maxon walked over to the side of my bed and sat down.

"You are amazing," Maxon whispered, the back of his hand stroking my cheek.

"_You_ are the one that is amazing, Maxon Schreave," I replied, letting my whole body relax at his proximity. I had missed him so much, even in just one afternoon without him.

He shook his head, all the while leaning down to kiss me passionately. When we both couldn't breathe properly he lifted his head and looked at me like he did this afternoon.

"How could you stand looking at me earlier today? I looked like a ragamuffin," I complained.

Maxon burst out laughing, his breath wheezing in and out the way it did when he laughed too hard. "You always look beautiful," he repeated Anne's words. "However, you do smell much better."

I swatted at him playfully. He grabbed my hands in his and lay down next to me, kissing me softly once more on the lips before stroking my hair, lulling me into sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you to everyone who is reading this story! I know I haven't been saying this, but all rights to characters belong to Kiera Cass. I love her story!**

**A.R. Darcangelo**

Chapter 3:

When I woke up the next morning, Maxon was gone. I had suspected he may leave. He probably hadn't spent much time with the other girls while I was sick. I stretched against my sheets and pushed my palms against the headboard. I looked at the clock above my table. It was nearly six in the morning. The sky behind my curtains was turning a deep gray-blue as the sun began to rise.

I got up slowly out of bed, taking extra care just in case I still couldn't stand on my own. I padded into the bathroom and took the braid out of my hair, letting it wave across my shoulders and back. I could smell the shampoo my maids had used new and afresh. I found myself thinking of them, and what I would do if Maxon didn't choose me. Would I ever see them again? My eyes began to burn at the thought. There was so much I didn't know about myself that I had learned here. As stubborn as I was about coming to the palace initially, this may have been the best thing to ever happen to me. I'd learned to love the people of my country and the ideas that could change it forever. I loved the opportunities I had to voice those ideas and make a difference, no matter how terrible the consequences had been, especially in recent days. And then I got to experience falling in love for a second time. I never knew love could come so unexpected and fast, and in such a different way.

I thought back to the night in the safe room and both the spoken and unspoken words between Maxon and I. How I had all but told him I loved him, and he had responded by saying that he was glad that at least for a short time, we both felt the same way for each other.

I walked over to the piano in my room and began to experiment, letting my feelings guide my fingers across the keys. For some reason, as I played, my tune always ended on a sad note, leaving me feeling lost and uncertain. I was going to fight – there was no doubt in my mind about that – but what would be enough? For all I knew, one move from one of the other girls could change everything entirely. That had already happened once. Would it be the end if it happened again?

I started at the crisp knock at my door. "Come in," I said, my voice cracking slightly.

To my surprise, Silvia walked through the door. I suppose I should've been expecting a visit from her any day now to help me correct my speech from last week's _Report_.

"Good morning, America," Silvia said briskly, stopping a few feet from the piano bench I was sitting on.

"Good morning, Silvia." I remembered to put my shoulders back a second too late.

Silvia looked at me over her thin glasses. She pulled out a small stack of papers. "I am here to give you your speech for this Friday's _Report_. You are to memorize it and say it word for word. _No_ _exceptions_."

"But –"I started.

"No, America. These are orders from the king. You will do as he says," Silvia interrupted. Well, that wasn't very lady-like if you asked me.

I looked down at the speech. I scanned it and could already tell I was going to be made to look like an idiot. I opened my mouth to say something smart back, but then I thought of Maxon. Red smeared across my vision as I envisioned the stripes across his back that I had caused. Making me the people's favorite was going to be a lot harder than he thought.

"Very well," I conceded, straightening my back and holding my head high.

Silvia raised an eyebrow at me and turned to leave.

"Silvia, wait –, "I said, standing up.

She turned, looking at me with questioning eyes.

I wasn't even sure what I wanted to say. I yearned for understanding.

"I know I disappointed you," I started. "I know I disappointed a lot of people." I thought of Queen Amberly and the look on her face at last week's _Report_. "I did not think everything through, yes, but I believe in what I said. The way this country is… it's not fair. And I know nobody ever said life was fair, but I can't live with knowing people that are meant for great things are stuck somewhere where they can't show how talented, or smart, or unique they are. I stand by what I said, no matter what this speech reads." I stood tall with my hands folded in front of me, keeping my face serious and with the best I could muster, an aura of regality.

Silvia just stared at me for a moment, blinking. I thought she might be gearing up to tell me to give it a rest, until she sighed and looked down at the carpet momentarily, something that Sylvia _never_ did. When she looked back up I was shocked to see tears in her eyes.

She walked over to me and reached out to hold one of my hands in hers. "I believe in everything you said Lady America. I was a six once, you know."

My eyes popped open a little, surprised. "A six?" I repeated.

Silvia nodded, pressing her lips together. "But sometimes you can't just say what you want to or try to change something that people have been living by for so long. You have to do things a certain way."

"I know, Silvia, and I wish I had thought of that sooner but –"

"I understand that. Just know… and I am not really allowed to say anything like this, but America, I am rooting for you. I just hope that the queen I just saw moments ago can keep it up. She's in there somewhere." She squeezed my hand tightly for a moment before turning to leave, shutting the door behind her.

It took me a moment to process that by practically telling her that the speech she had written meant nothing to me, she had seen a queen in me. Someone who had ideals and passion enough for the job. And since when had I become Silvia's favorite?

I went back to my bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror. Could I do this? I had moments before where I believed I could. I put my shoulders back and lifted my chin slightly, folding my hands in front of me. I gave myself a hint of a smile.

I went to my bedside table and pressed the call button for my maids. It was time for a new game plan.


	4. Chapter 4

**I am so amazed at the positive feedback! My primary reason for writing this fanfiction (other than the fact that I cannot wait for the book to come out) is because I LOVE writing so much. It is an escape for me, and I hope someday I can create and write a story for my own characters. In the meantime, thanks for the confidence boost! **

**A.R. Darcangelo**

**P.S. Anyone else excited for the PLL finale tonight? My two younger sisters have me hooked!**

Chapter 4:

When I walked downstairs for breakfast, I was a few minutes late on purpose again. The reaction I got this time was so much better than the first.

Queen Amberly beamed at me from across the room, bowing her head slightly in approval. Kriss and Celeste were burning with jealousy. They both glared at me from under their eyelashes. Elise just smiled and patted the seat next to her. I dared to look up at Maxon.

He had put his fork down and was watching me glide across the room, a small smile forming on his lips. His expression could only be described as admiration. He tugged his ear discreetly.

I sat down, lifting the bottom of my gown up gracefully, keeping my shoulders back. I tugged my ear, too, and looked up through my lashes to see Maxon give me one last crooked smile before returning to his food.

"Gosh, America, that dress is just dazzling. You have some really talented maids," Elise complimented, turning her body to face me. Kriss and Celeste continued to glare from across the table.

"They _are_ very talented. I'm so lucky to have them," I replied.

"I'll be sure to request them when Maxon asks me to be his queen," Celeste said, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

I ignored her. "I couldn't believe they had this up their sleeve," I said, gesturing to the dress. It was a deep red, the same color as the dress I had attempted to seduce Maxon with, but there was beading across the bodice that could be nothing but hand crafted. The top layer, which was a thin, black netted type of fabric, split down the middle to reveal a lighter red in shimmery satin. The sleeves covered my shoulders, and the top dipped about four inches below my collarbone, revealing just enough skin to be beautiful, but modest. The back had a small opening too, resting just below my shoulder blades.

My maids had kept my hair in its unique waves, curling pieces here and there to soften them, and then had placed a diamond encrusted headband in my hair that was just shy of being a crown.

I truly looked like a queen.

Queen Amberly stood up shortly after I got there, excusing herself and telling us girls she would meet us in the Women's Room later that afternoon. A few minutes later, Kriss stood up, and to my surprise, walked over to Maxon and sat right in Amberly's seat.

"Is she even allowed to do that?" Celeste hissed between her teeth.

I shrugged, upset I hadn't thought of it first.

Kriss giggled and put her hand on Maxon's forearm. I threw up in my mouth a little bit.

I looked down at my food and didn't look back up until it was obvious that Kriss was gone. The tirade of flirtatious giggles had finally ceased. Elise and Celeste had left seconds after Kriss had sat down with Maxon, rolling their eyes as they went.

I glanced around the room, and the only people there were a maid and butler, one cleaning up the royal's table and the other standing by the door with a platter full of empty glasses. I eyed the last strawberry tart in the middle of the table.

I was already bursting at the seams with food, but my sweet tooth was calling me to it. I reached over and took the tart, not bothering to use a fork this time. I took a large bite and finally let my posture sink as I let my eyes roll back into my head a little bit. I needed to bribe whoever made these to send me some if I ever went back to Carolina.

A polite cough behind me caught my attention. I turned around too quickly, my mouth still full of strawberry tart. Queen Amberly stood behind my chair, smiling endearingly. "I'm sorry, is this a bad time?" she asked, laughter in her eyes.

"Nah at all, yer Majes-se," I replied around my food.

Queen Amberly laughed heartily, the first time I had ever heard her do so. "Swallow your food first, and then we can talk." She sat down in Elise's chair, discreetly avoiding watching me as I chewed the rest of the tart and washed it down with some juice.

"I'm sorry about that," I apologized, blushing.

"No need, dear," she said, waving her hand in the air to brush off the apology. "I just wanted to see how you were doing. You have had quite the week here at the palace."

I knew she wasn't just talking about the _Report_, but also my grand entrance the other night, as well as this morning. I realized how much of an unorganized mess I must look.

I sighed. "Yes, I think I am doing fine now. Perhaps a little more stressed than usual, but it's not every day you are trying to win the heart of a prince." I smiled at that, knowing she probably understood exactly what I meant.

She seemed to know, her eyes focusing on some distant memory. "Ah, yes. What a feat. Though I think you are about as close as you can get in that area. You just need some shining up." She smiled lovingly at me. Wait, did she just say what I think she said? Did she know that Maxon's heart was already mine? "You know, America, when I was present during the last Selection, I experienced all the same things you girls are."

I knew she meant well, but I highly doubted she came here because her ex-boyfriend made her sign up, or had to deal with him showing up at the palace just when she'd decided she had feelings for the prince. But I listened intently anyways.

"I know it can be very emotional. A girl your age has a hard enough time just finding who she is and what she believes in, much less training to be the next queen, as well as falling in love with the country's next king." She looked at me pointedly. "When I was feeling overwhelmed, I would just walk around the palace. It gave me time to think, but also to explore. I thought I may never have another chance to see the palace again." She laughed at the memory. Then her smile faded, and she lowered her voice. "Once I found a room. It was actually an older secret passageway where Gregory Illea must have escaped to when rebels attempted to attack the palace. I don't know how it has stood for as long as it has," she wondered aloud. "It was on the second floor, behind the mirror hanging on the wall. I had stopped to pull the pins out of my hair. Although I loved my maids, I always felt as though they were trying to pin weights to my head."

I smiled at her. "Luckily, I have never had that experience," I told her, tucking a stray curl behind my ear. It fell forward again, just as Mary had designed it to.

Queen Amberly smiled back. "Yes, your maids seem to know what they are doing. I am very impressed with your latest entrance." She winked at me. Then she stood up, tucking that curl into my headband. This time it stayed. "I really must be going. It was nice speaking with you, America. I will see you soon." And with that she left me alone.

I stayed where I was, staring at the doorway, replaying the conversation in my head. I wondered if Amberly had had similar conversations with the other girls. And I certainly would be seeing her shortly. Within an hour or so, we were all to meet her in the Women's Room for tea.

My eyes popped open as something she said struck me. The room behind the mirror on the second floor. She couldn't possibly have meant for me to discover it, could she?

There was only one way to find out. I took the rest of my strawberry tart and wrapped it in a napkin, and set off for the second floor.


	5. Chapter 5

**Quick shout-out to theselectionqueen, Guest mih, prnamber3909, Athenachild101, and winterprincess. Your reviews have been lovely :)**

**A.R. Darcangelo**

Chapter 5:

I nibbled at my strawberry tart as I headed down to the second floor. I tried to walk slowly, being careful not to give away I was going anywhere in a hurry.

As I rounded the corner to the stairwell, I spotted Maxon and Kriss sitting on the bottom step, deep in conversation. I almost turned around and walked back to my room. But then again, if Queen Amberly was waiting for me, this was a one-time opportunity. I couldn't pass it up.

And besides, I wasn't about to let Kriss be the reason I was holed up in my room for the afternoon.

They either hadn't heard me approaching or didn't care, because when I was about five steps up from where they sat, Maxon leaned in and tried to kiss Kriss. She moved her head to the side, successfully dodging his attempt.

"What's wrong?" Maxon asked, looking embarrassed.

"Oh, nothing, I –"she stopped, her eyes widening as she spotted me. "America! Just coming back from breakfast?"

I glanced down at the almost non-existent tart in my hand. I popped the rest of it in my mouth. "Mmhmm." I walked right past them without looking at Maxon.

"America," Maxon called. I turned to look at him. I raised an eyebrow in question, unwilling to repeat what had transpired with the queen as I tried to swallow my food.

"Are we still having dinner tonight? In my room?" he asked, looking hopeful. His eyes also looked like they were pleading with me to go along with whatever he was saying.

Wait, _his_ room?

"Um, yes, of course." I smiled. Kriss gave me the death glare from behind Maxon.

"Great," he said, sighing with relief.

I turned and continued walking down the hall, making a mental note to ask him why I didn't know about our dinner plans until he was confirming them in front of Kriss. I smiled at whatever had caused him to do that.

I stepped into the main hall of the second floor and looked up and down for a mirror. It was about halfway down, above a table with a single vase of flowers sitting on top.

I tried looking discreetly around the table for some sort of lever or switch. I remember there being something similar when Maxon had opened the secret passageway by the hospital wing, but I didn't see anything like that.

I sighed in frustration. Perhaps I was reading too much into what Amberly had told me. She probably wasn't even here. I turned to walk back down the hall, deciding to take the long way around just in case Maxon and Kriss were still by the staircase.

A short, but high pitched squeak nearly made me jump out of my skin. I turned, and saw the wall behind the mirror slightly ajar. I noticed for the first time that the table was attached to the wall, and the legs were maybe a quarter of an inch off the floor. The distance was so small, you would have to look at it from a strange angle, the way I was now, in order to see it.

I looked up and down the hall to make sure I was alone. As soon as I was sure I was, I pushed open the wall just so there was enough space to squeeze through, and slipped inside the dark room.

I gasped when the wall closed shut behind me. A light hand came down on my shoulder.

I turned and saw Queen Amberly, who was smiling as she lit the room by flipping the light switch. "I am so glad you came, America. Come, there is something I need to show you."

I followed her across the room and to another door. There was a lock on this one as well. I wondered if it was another security measure, just in case the rebels made it into the first room. That would be strange though, because all it did was buy you time at that point.

"So this is the room you were talking about?" I asked, noticing that the second room had a metallic scent.

"Yes… I must ask you something first, America." She turned then, just before turning the light on in the next room. The only light was coming from the lamp drilled into the top of the first room, so she was half bathed in darkness. Even then, I could tell that her eyes were glassy.

"Of course. Anything you want to know," I promised, scared and upset to see the one person who was always so composed breaking down in front of me.

"You were in the safe room with Maxon last Friday, were you not? And it was just the two of you?" she asked, looking into my eyes, searching for something.

"Yes," I said carefully. Had I done something wrong?

Queen Amberly took a deep breath. She flipped the light switch in the second room and walked over into the far corner. When she stepped aside I gasped and my hand flew to my mouth.

On a thin rack in the corner was a long, rattan cane. It was stained red at the end, and on the floor beneath it, the concrete was spotted a dark burgundy. Instantly, the image of Maxon standing here taking lashes filled my vision. My stomach lurched.

"America," the queen pleaded. She took my hands gently in hers. "Please tell me this isn't what I think it is," she whispered.

I couldn't speak. Tears welled in my eyes. Hot, angry tears that threatened to break me. They were enough of an answer for her. She fell to her knees, her face in her hands, sobbing quietly. I went to my knees as well, letting my angry tears fall silently, and put my arms around her.

When her sobs turned into light hiccups, she wiped her face with the back of her fingers delicately, and looked into my red and puffy face.

"You are the best thing that has ever happened to Maxon," she whispered.

I looked down. I had never felt less deserving of him in my life.

"I know he loves you, so much," she confessed. "He has done everything in his power to keep you here. And I know why… I understand why. You are everything this country needs. Everything my son needs." She took a shaky breath.

"Your Majesty, you said there was something you wanted to show me?" I inquired.

"Yes," she said. She stood up, pulling me with her. She led me out of the room and into the next room, shutting off the light and the closing the door behind her.

She walked over to the sink and picked up a thin, leather-bound book. It was Gregory Illea's diary – the same one that I had brought with me to the _Report_. I hadn't noticed it sitting there until now.

She walked over to me slowly. She held it quietly in her hands for a moment before speaking.

"America, everything you said… You were right. I believe in every word. Yes, it was foolish to announce it in front of the entire country. But you have the right idea."

She stopped for a moment and offered me a small smile. I smiled back.

She took another deep breath. "When Clarkson and I finally had Maxon, many of the things in the palace – books, candlesticks, drapes, you name it – started going missing. Clarkson and I assumed that with the new prince, the servants wouldn't think we'd notice the few things going missing here and there. It was pretty regular for a servant to be caned for stealing, but never by the king. But by the time Maxon had started schooling, the stealing got so bad that Clarkson started doing the canings himself. I ignored them – I told him I never wanted to hear about it. I always thought that back room was meant for the private canings that Clarkson dealt out himself… I stopped coming here the first time I saw the cane back there. Maxon had to have been about six." She stopped then, her eyes welling up again. I reached out and took one of her hands in mine.

She looked up at me then and smiled weakly, squeezing my hand. "I never dreamed…" she continued. "I came back here, oh, what day was it? The day after the attack? I had an inkling… I had hoped I was wrong. How could a mother not know her own son was being abused?"

I bit my lip. "Maxon was just trying to protect you… He didn't want you to bear his pain." I recalled Maxon telling me that he never wanted his mother to know. I also remembered that he told me his mother was abused in her own ways. Those ways didn't look physical to me, but I had no idea Maxon was being caned until that night either.

Queen Amberly smiled. "I know. He's such a wonderful young man. I am so proud of him." Her smile faltered. "When I saw the book sitting by the sink, I knew. Clarkson had taken the book from you that night and disappeared with Maxon. How else could it have ended up here?"

I looked down at the floor. I couldn't even imagine what she must be feeling. The person she was married to was hurting their only son – and for years had covered it up by claiming to punish thieves within the palace. How could she even begin to cope with that?

"America, I am going to give this back to you," she said, handing the book to me.

My head snapped up. "I don't know if that's such a great idea."

"It is, trust me," she said. "I want you to take it to Maxon… Read it together. Start making some decisions. He is smart about how to present and implement changes to our country's structure, even though Clarkson never allows him to share his ideas. But Maxon needs your passion. You would make an excellent team."

I looked down at the book in her hands. It was the past, present, and future of Illea. I slowly took it, and looked up into Queen Amberly's tear stained face. It was full of faith.

"Thank you," I whispered.


	6. Chapter 6

**So this chapter is loaded with lots of Maxerica, and it's super long. I am going on vacation with my family this weekend, so I hope that this ties all of you that are following this story over, at least for a few days. Have an awesome weekend, and please leave reviews and follow so I know you guys like where the story is going!**

**As always, the characters and story belong to the talented Kiera Cass. **

**A.R. Darcangelo**

Chapter 6:

Maxon was not present during lunch and he didn't come by my room at all that afternoon. So when I was walking to his room during the normal dinner hour, I was incredibly nervous. I wasn't sure if it was because it was my first extended amount of alone time that I would get to spend with him since being trapped in a safe room with him, or because I was hiding Gregory Illéa's diary under my coat. I knew it may seem odd to be wearing a coat inside, but I knew it would be easier to explain away than carrying around the diary in the open.

When I got to Maxon's room, there were two guards standing outside of it. The first I had never seen before, but the other made my heart quicken. His green eyes bore into mine.

"Lady America," Aspen greeted me, looking stiff.

"Officer Leger," I said politely. I nodded towards the other officer, who smiled and nodded back.

I knocked loudly on Maxon's door, effectively stopping any more conversation that Aspen may have tried to initiate.

The door opened, and I almost breathed a sigh of relief at the calm that washed over me. His shirt was untucked and wrinkled at the edges. He didn't have a tie on, and his hair was rumpled the way I loved it. He smiled at me warmly, his eyes lighting up.

"Your Majesty," I said, my voice singing with love. I saw Aspen twitch uncomfortably next to me.

"America," Maxon said, breathing my name like it was fresh air. He held out his hand and I took it. We stepped into his room and he quickly shut the door behind him, embracing me almost too fast.

"Have I told you how breathtaking you are lately?" he whispered into my hair, his arms tightening.

"No," I said, smiling into his chest. "Remind me."

He put his hands on my shoulders and held me at arm's length, looking into my eyes. "America Singer, you are radiant. I never knew beauty before I laid eyes on you that first night in the garden."

"Oh, shut up," I said teasingly, my face heating up. I leaned in to hide my face in his chest.

He was too quick for me. He took my face in his hands and pressed his mouth to mine, letting them move into a slow, but searing kiss.

When he started to pull away I put my arms around his neck and pressed my lips to his harder. He laughed under my mouth and kissed me a few moments more before gently separating our lips by a fraction of an inch.

"Aren't you hot in that thing?" he asked, gesturing to my coat.

"I am now," I admitted.

"Here, let me take it for you," he said, starting to undo the buttons up the front.

"I've got it," I said, turning away while my face heated up again. He smiled as he took my rejection as embarrassment rather than the fact that I was hiding something. I second guessed if that was my motive myself. I was sure my face was the color of my hair by now.

I pulled off the jacket and discreetly tucked the diary underneath it, draping it over an armchair. When I turned around, I was reminded of where I was. I had never been in Maxon's room before. It was everything I expected it to be – and everything I didn't. There was a large four poster bed in the middle of the room with royal blue sheets and pillows, and a bedside table that had a single lamp and his camera. Next to that was a large dresser and a full length mirror. Along the sides of the mirror were pictures that he had slipped in between the creases. Even from across the room, I could see my flaming red hair in a few of them.

Maxon was on the other side of the room, holding out a chair for me. In front of his balcony doors was a table with a white tablecloth and a full course meal on top. Prime rib with sautéed vegetables, including yellow squash and seasoned tomatoes, a small pot of what smelled like potato soup, and two slices of pumpkin cheesecake on the side. I glided across the room, my nose leading me all the way.

"Mmmm, we might have to wait until I eat to talk, this smells amazing," I said dreamily.

"I agree," Maxon said. "The food got here about five minutes before you did. I've been having a hard time waiting for you."

"Sorry you had to wait so long," I replied, not sounding like I was sorry at all. I started off by spearing about three green beans, two tomatoes and some squash and popping them into my mouth. I could barely chew.

"Is it good?" Maxon said, delicately cutting his meat.

"Mmhmm," I mumbled through my food. As promised, we didn't talk through most of dinner. But the silence was not uncomfortable. Whatever discomfort Maxon and I had experienced over the last several weeks leading up to the incident on the _Report_ was gone. It wasn't until I got to my cheesecake that Maxon finally said something.

"So…" he began, starting to fiddle with the napkin on his lap. "Are you angry with me?"

"What?" I asked, surprised.

"You know, about Kriss and I… from this morning?" he asked, trying to jog my memory.

"Oh, that," I said. I chewed slowly, trying to decide how I wanted to say what I needed to tell him.

I swallowed and put down my fork. "I am not happy about it, no. Not about you spending so much time with her, nor trying to kiss her, or anything else. And I know you think I am going to disappoint you –"Maxon opened his mouth to interrupt, but I put a hand up.

"Wait, just let me finish my thought. I know you think I am going to disappoint you, and I understand you are trying to build on… the connection… you have with Kriss. And that's fine. I don't blame you. I don't like it, but I trust you. Even though sometimes I feel like I am the last person you are thinking about, I have to believe that you still want me. Otherwise I wouldn't be able to stay." I looked up at him. His expression was unreadable.

He reached across the table and took my hand. "America, believe it or not, I don't think you are going to disappoint me," he said softly. He squeezed my hand. "And for the record, I can't keep you off my mind. Sometimes I feel guilty… I will be with one of the other girls, including Kriss, and I will start thinking of you. I look forward to the time I hope to spend with you – even if sometimes my father makes that impossible."

I looked down at our hands, unable to look at his eyes. They burned with truth and the love that I had hoped was still deep down inside of him.

"I don't know what it will take to get you to believe," he said, exasperated. "How many times do I have to tell you that you've had my heart from the beginning? That has never changed – not once, America. Even when I hardly saw you and started spending time with the others. My heart has only ever belonged to you."

I couldn't help it. I started to cry.

Maxon pulled me up from my chair and sat me in his lap, stroking my hair softly. "Please don't cry, love," he whispered.

"S-s-sorry," I sniffed. I felt his silent laughter.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. If I had to do everything over again, I would, even if things happened the same way. As long as it meant you would be right where you are now." He tightened his arms around me to emphasize what he meant.

"I could almost say the same," I whispered, thinking of the scars on his back. He seemed to know what I meant. He remained silent after that, but continued to stroke my hair.

"Maxon?" I whispered a little while later.

"Yes, darling?" he asked. His hand had come to rest on my lower back, and his head was resting on the top of mine.

I sniffed. "I never finished my cheesecake."

Maxon laughed, breaking any tension left from my crying. He leaned back and gave me a quick kiss on the lips before letting me sit back in my seat. I ate the rest of my cake slowly as he began to talk about his day, successfully changing the subject. I was grateful for that. I felt like I had done enough crying already, even if they were happy tears.

Maxon began talking about negotiations with France, and how his father had sent a telegram, informing him he would be back by Friday's _Report_. "I don't understand what the issue is. Our terms were to trade crops exclusively so that there would be no illegal weapons coming into the country. It's incredibly frustrating!" Maxon ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it more.

"Do you think that's how the rebels are getting their weapons?" I asked. "There is no way a caste below a four could afford some of the weapons I've seen."

"Most likely," he replied.

"Hmmm…" I said, the wheels in my head turning.

"What?"

"Well… I know you are prepared to fight if needed, especially with the added security around the palace, but why don't you _plan_ for the rebels to come? You already know it's going to happen, right? Well why don't you have a game plan ready for them? They plan their attacks. The guards should have a planned counter attack. Like a trap." I glanced up at Maxon, trying to gauge his reaction.

His face was blank momentarily, except for his eyes, which were wide as saucers. "America…"

"Never mind, it was a stupid idea," I interrupted him. I felt another embarrassed blush creep up my face.

"No, America, you're a genius!" Maxon exclaimed.

"I am?" I asked, snapping my head up to look at his excited expression.

"Yes!" he shouted. He got up and ran over to a small desk in the opposite corner of the room and wrote down something quickly.

When he walked back to the table he looked happier than I'd ever seen him concerning prince-affairs.

"Impressed?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

He ignored my question. "I wish you would've used that idea for your presentation last week. That was brilliant," he said with a smile.

"Me too," I said, remembering the speech I would have to read in front of the entire country in just a day. My mind wandered to my meeting with the queen this morning at the mention of last week's fiasco.

I dipped my head as I scraped the last of the cheesecake with my fork. How was I going to tell him?

"What's wrong?" Maxon asked, standing next to me.

I supposed there was no easy way around it. "This morning, when I saw you and Kriss…" I began.

"Yeah?" Maxon prodded warily.

"I was going to meet with your mom," I said carefully.

"Oh," Maxon said, visibly relaxing. "That's wonderful. Did you have a nice chat?" His brow furrowed as he connected some dots. "Were you going to her study? It's on the fourth floor…" He struggled to understand.

"No," I said, ducking my head again. "She told me about a room that she had found when she had come here for the last Selection. It's an old hideout. It was on the second floor. That's why I was there," I clarified.

"Oh. So, did it go badly? You aren't making it sound like it went well –" Maxon stopped, piecing the last few pieces of the puzzle together. His face went from confused, to shocked, to horrified.

I stood up, facing him. "Maxon… It's not your fault. She isn't angry with you for not telling her," I assured him.

He shook his head. "That's not what I am worried about. She has a right to be angry… I know she wouldn't though. It's just a burden I didn't want her to bear, America. What if my father finds out she knows? What will happen if she confronts him? I swear, if he hurts her, I will – "It was Maxon's turn to cry. I had never seen him cry the way he was now – with silent, devastated tears running down his cheeks.

I reached up and caught them with my fingers. "Shhh, it's okay, Maxon. I promise, everything is going to be okay."

He nodded, closing his eyes for a second. "I guess I will need to talk to her."

I nodded. "That's probably a good idea."

He took a deep breath. "Sorry, I didn't mean to lose it like that."

"Don't apologize," I said immediately. I let my hand cup his cheek. He reached up and laid his hand over mine, keeping it there.

"There is something else…" I said carefully.

"What?"

I pulled my hand out from under his and walked over to where my coat was laid over an armchair. I pulled the diary out from under it and held it in front of me. I watched as Maxon's eyes widened for a second. I could feel his anxiety from across the room.

"Maxon, your mom gave this to me. She said she wanted us to read it together. She believes in what I said, Maxon. And while I wish I could take back what I said for your sake, I know that there is a lot of truth in what I presented. The way things are… You can't just force someone into a position they don't want or can't handle. You limit your people and therefore the entire country. And most of all you aren't allowing people to live. They go through life following a set of rules because they have to, and as a result they really don't stand a chance." Passion had leaked into my voice. Maxon stared at me from across the room. This time I knew exactly what he was thinking. Fear played across his features, perhaps for me, the queen, and himself. But there was also respect – an understanding of where I was coming from and knowing that the morals behind what I said were the foundational ideas for what Illéa needed.

Maxon walked over to me slowly, taking hold of the book with one hand, while I held onto it with one of mine.

"I can see that," he finally said. "But you can't just change a country and the structure it has been built on… It will fall apart."

"Not necessarily," I said softly. "If there is something else to replace it, it will still stand."

Maxon shook his head. "Not always."

I wasn't sure what experience he was thinking of as he said that, but I let it go for now.

"It's hard when you haven't walked in someone else's shoes before," I replied. He nodded in agreement.

I knew we were both thinking about different things – me about people who never had a chance to reach their full potential, and sometimes because if that, were forced out of work and the only home they ever knew. In the meantime, Maxon talked of being born into royalty, and essentially training to be the leader of the country, even if that wasn't what he wanted. I couldn't help but notice the similarities.

I guess he wasn't so different from the citizens of Illéa after all.


	7. Chapter 7

**All rights belong to the wonderful Kiera Cass. Thank you to all who take a few minutes to review my story. You guys are awesome!**

**A.R. Darcangelo**

Chapter 7:

The artificial lights from overhead seemed unusually hot tonight. Or maybe I was just working up a sweat as I thought about the speech I would be making in no less than ten minutes.

I was sitting in a seat in between Elise and Celeste tonight. All the other girls would be interviewing with Gavril, another short segment to allow Illéa to get to know their Elite, while I would be finishing my presentation that never completely aired.

I spotted Maxon across the stage, talking quietly with his father. The king had come back from France early this afternoon, and I let myself accept that I may not see Maxon for a while. I hoped he would find time to come see me, if only for a few minutes, but I knew that wasn't a promise he could make with his father back at the palace.

I caught Maxon's eye, and he offered me a small smile as he raked his eyes quickly over me. My maids had put my hair up, leaving a few stray curls to accent my face. I was wearing an orange dress, like the color of the sun setting, in a shimmery silk fabric that draped about a foot behind me in a small train. They had done an excellent job of keeping my appearance regal. I smiled back at him and waved. I stopped abruptly when the king looked back to see who Maxon was staring at. I swear his glare was burning holes in me. He caught Maxon by his collar and turned his attention towards the other end of the stage, speaking close to his ear.

I sighed. Last night Maxon and I had decided that he should spend some time alone reading the diary. He had said when he was ready to discuss some things that he would let me know. A part of me wondered if he didn't want to make any decisions about the country with me because I wasn't his choice yet. If I wasn't one hundred percent his, why would I start making decisions only royalty could make? It made sense… but Maxon's words were still fresh in my mind. _You've had my heart from the beginning._ I had to trust that he just needed time to make some discoveries alone, just as I did. I felt guilty for assuming he had knowledge of what was in the diaries before I had made my presentation last week. I couldn't imagine how overwhelming it must be for him to be trying to finish the Selection as well as finding out what Gregory Illéa had done to his own daughter to start the very country he was going to rule.

I was brought out of my reverie as I spotted Silvia walked hurriedly over to me. I had memorized her speech, and while I disagreed with a lot of what was in it, at least she had made me sound educated.

"Lady America," she greeted me, a small stack of index cards in her hands. She must have made me some cards just in case I forgot _exactly_ what I needed to say. She had been pretty clear there was to be no improvisation.

"Silvia," I replied. "Are those for me?"

"Yes. Please read them over a few times before we start. That way you will already know what you need to say and it won't look like you are reading a transcript," she said, handing the small stack over to me.

"I could say that speech while jumping up and down on one foot, with a hand rubbing my stomach and with the other patting my head." I smiled, hoping she would be pleased.

She sighed. "Just read the cards, America." She walked off briskly, turning once to look at me over her spectacles.

I looked down at the cards. It became apparent very quickly that this was _not_ the speech I had memorized. I looked up and saw Maxon sitting down next to the queen. Gavril was straightening his tie, and the king was walking in from the other side of the room to sit. We would be starting any minute.

I quickly read through the cards once, twice, and I was halfway through the third time when Gavril called for places and the camera clicked on.

"Welcome, citizens of Illéa!" Gavril shouted with a smile. I could feel myself starting to hyperventilate.

Gavril started by making small talk with the king and Maxon, while Queen Amberly laughed delicately on cue so she seemed more involved in the conversation. Then the interviews with the other girls started. Maxon came up to sit in a chair next to Gavril while the girls came up one by one to answer a few questions, sometimes involving Maxon so it was apparent that he was building a connection with each of us. Normally, I would have cared more about the funny little stories Maxon and the other girls were telling about times they had spent together, but my heart was racing too fast and blood pounded uncomfortably in my ears. I heard my name, but it took me a second to register I was being called up for my interview.

I glanced up at Gavril, who was looking up at me expectantly. Maxon had his brow furrowed in concern. I heard Celeste snort uncharacteristically next to me as I got out of my chair and walked over to sit in the chair next to Maxon. He immediately held my hand and squeezed it a little. Had he held everyone else's hand? I couldn't remember.

"Lady America, so nice to see you," Gavril said, bowing his head a little in greeting.

"Thank you," I said, my words coming out more relaxed than I thought possible.

"Now, before we start, the king has informed us that you would like to finish your presentation from last week. We had some technical issues unfortunately, and were not able to hear all that you had to say. Would you give us a quick recap of what you wanted to say to Illéa?" He asked, sounding complimentary.

I snapped out of my nervous state when I heard him say that my presentation had been interrupted due to technical issues. _Psht_. _Yeah_, _right_, I thought to myself.

I cleared my throat softly. "Yes, Gavril, I would love to do that." I glanced down at the cards Silvia had given to me. I suddenly felt slightly nervous again. I looked around the room and spotted Silvia. I saw her nod to me, giving me permission to read the words. I turned back to Maxon who gave me an encouraging smile. He squeezed my hand again.

"Illéa, I stated last week that I thought removing the caste system would be beneficial to moving forward as a country," I began. I swallowed hard. "While at the time I know that this was a proposition that seemed like a change our country could handle right now, over just the past week I have learned that this system is at Illéa's core, and it cannot be moved so suddenly. I have also thought much about how it has shaped us all – both in good ways and bad ways. Like every country's structure, there are imperfections, but the people that I have grown to love so much more than I ever knew I could are a result of the very system I suggested we get rid of.

"You are who you are because of how you grew up. I was a Five, and I know what it's like to go without electricity for a month, or not have seconds at the table, or not being sure you will make ends meet because the season is slow for your work in the caste you are a part of. But without all those things, who would you be today? Would you be the same person? When there is enough to make ends meet, and you have electricity during the winter, and you have dessert after dinner, how grateful are you to have those things? The caste system is an integral part of your character, and it has made you thankful for everything that you do have, as little as it may be."

I took a deep breath. Here it comes. "And yet, I still believe that Illéa is meant for much greater than a system that builds some character." I felt Maxon stiffen beside me. "I believe that this country has the strength to move from this foundation to a foundation that is built on choice. A choice to choose where you will live, what job you will have, and what opportunities and dreams you will follow. While some of us are lucky enough to pursue dreams we never knew we could hope for –" I looked at Maxon when I said that, emphasizing my point. He looked slightly nervous, but his face visibly softened at my words – "I think that _everyone_ deserves the chance to be that lucky. I think with some of the programs Kriss mentioned in her teaching model, as well as Elise's ideas on foreign exchanges to stop the New Asia war, I believe a transition to a model that would allow any person to pursue different opportunities would be possible, whether that means taking off the name 'caste' as part of our identity or not. It may take time, but I believe that with small changes here and there, there is a good possibility your children will be living in an even greater Illéa."

I looked at Gavril now, who for the first time, looked as though he didn't know what to say. I glanced at the camera from the corner of my eye to make sure it was still on. The little red light showed it was still recording.

"Well said, Lady America," Gavril finally said, looking genuinely impressed. "I think a mash-up of all the ladies' ideas would be a fabulous way to integrate some improvement on the caste system." He looked over at the other girls and smiled.

Kriss was smiling half-heartedly, looking glad enough that she was getting some extra attention. Elise beamed at me in a silent thank you. Celeste looked impassive, but underneath her façade I could see she was seething that her terrible idea hadn't been mentioned.

Gavril turned to Maxon. "Do you think that could work, Prince Maxon?"

Maxon was still looking at me in awe. It took him a few moments to tear his eyes from me. "Yes, I think the idea has some real potential. Improvement to our educational system and trades will definitely open up some room for improvement in areas that have needs like Lady America mentioned."

"Wonderful!" Gavril said. He asked me a few more questions, but I can't remember what they were or what I said. I had gone back to breathing unevenly. When I sat back down in my seat next to Celeste and Elise, I realized my hands were shaking.

Before I could process anything else, the camera had turned off and the hot lights dimmed.

And the king was standing in front of me.

"Lady America," he said ungracefully.

"Your Highness," I said, my nerves suddenly buzzing.

"I thought we were going to have another repeat of last week's performance for a moment. Using the ideas that the other girls studied so hard to prepare and present was a weak way to cover up your… error, from last week, as well as the mistake you nearly made again tonight." With each word, his tone became harsher and more condescending.

I kept my back straight and my eyes on his. I would not let him know I was afraid.

I spied Maxon standing closely behind his father nervously.

The king cleared his throat. "I do remember reviewing the speech you were supposed to make… Oddly enough, I don't think I heard it. It would be wise to follow your king's orders, Lady America. But I suppose you must learn things the hard way." He turned to Maxon.

"Maxon, I need to see you in my office. Please don't keep me waiting." He turned to walk out of the room. Maxon's face drained of its color. Queen Amberly stood wide-eyed and fearful behind him.

I stood up so fast it made my head spin. "Your Majesty, I – "

"Your Highness! The speech that Lady America read was written by me. She has done nothing but what she has been told," Silvia called from the other end of the room.

The king stopped, and turned slowly to face her. His face started to turn blue.

"I wrote that speech," Silvia repeated. "I know it was not the speech you approved, but it was difficult to get the revised speech approved while you were out of the country." I admired her fearlessness. She stood like she always did, as a royal.

The king stared her down. "Then it was not your call to change it when it could not be reviewed by me." He turned to Queen Amberly. "Amberly, please meet with Silvia in my office within the hour. I will not need to speak with Maxon. However, I would hope our son can see what trouble it is to have to monitor what comes out of _that_ girl's mouth." He nodded in my direction, but did not acknowledge Maxon.

After the king left the room, all of us sighed in relief. The tension was still palpable, but there was no longer fear.

I immediately faced Silvia. "Silvia, why?" I asked, gripping the fabric of my dress like a lifeline.

Silvia just stared at me. She said everything she needed to with her eyes.

Silvia, the queen, and Maxon all left the room together. Elise, Kriss, Celeste and I practically stayed glued to our seats. One by one we left the room, until only I was left. I wasn't sure how long it had been, but I didn't move until I saw two green eyes appear in front of me.

"Mer?" I heard him whisper, as if from a distance.

"Aspen… don't." I finally unearthed myself from my chair, and left the room, only looking back once to see Aspen with his shoulders slumped and a devastated expression on his face.

I kept walking.


	8. Chapter 8

**I had a question from a reader, and I thought I would post the answer here just in case there were others with the same question.**

**This story is a continuation of what Kiera Cass has already written and released, including the first three chapters of The One. It is an extra in her book "The Selection Stories" which includes "The Guard", "The Prince" (with extra bonus content) and the REAL first three chapters of The One. If you have not read the first three chapters of "The One" parts of my story WILL be confusing. I think you can manage to read it without reading the first three chapters, but it would be much easier if you have. **

**If you have any more questions, please don't hesitate to ask! It's been so fun talking to different readers and getting feedback.**

**Thank you for your question, Selena!**

**A.R. Darcangelo**

Chapter 8:

Maxon didn't come to my room after the _Report_. After my maids had put me in my silk pajamas and tucked me into bed, I stayed up into the late hours of the night, wondering what had transpired in the king's office with Silvia and the queen. I only hoped that he really meant his office, and not his makeshift torture chamber.

I don't know how late it was when I fell asleep – it was probably rather early, actually – but I woke up to Lucy gently shaking my shoulder. I got up and my maids drew me a bath, and later did my hair in a simple, straight hairstyle with a French braid crowning my hairline. They put me in a light pink dress that went to my knees. It made me feel like it was summer again.

I sauntered into the dining room for breakfast. Only Celeste and Elise were there. Elise was sipping on some hot green tea while Celeste had her nose in one of her magazines.

I sat down next to Elise and offered her a smile. She smiled back at me and poured me a cup of tea. I finished it in three gulps.

"No grand entrance today, America?" Celeste asked snidely.

I ignored her. "Elise, that was fabulous. Would you pour me another cup?"

"Sure," she replied happily, taking my cup from me.

Celeste huffed loudly and slapped the magazine in front of me.

I looked down and saw my face on the glossy page. I was sitting in a chair next to Maxon with Gavril on his other side. It was a picture from the _Report_ last night. The headline read "America Singer Gains Favor with the People: Will She Be the One?" Underneath that was a poll. Kriss led the pack with 42% of the people's vote, while I trailed behind her at 36%. Elise was a shy 12%, and Celeste picked up the rear at 10%.

"_This_ is all _your_ fault," Celeste hissed, pointing her polished nail at her 10%. "How did _you_ jump from dead last to second in one night?"

"I am only two percent ahead of you," Elise commented. She didn't seem all that upset about it.

Just then Maxon and his mother walked into the room. It took me a second to grasp that Kriss had her arm looped through Maxon's, and they were whispering quietly to each other. He took her to her seat next to Celeste. She sat down with a satisfied grin on her face.

He didn't acknowledge me at all. He bowed slightly to Elise, and Celeste practically threw herself on him, as much as you can throw yourself on someone while you're sitting down and they are standing.

"Well," Celeste breathed happily as Maxon walked to his seat. "It doesn't matter if you're the people's favorite if the Prince doesn't even like you, does it, America?" She took the magazine from my side of the table and set it on the seat next to her. I caught Kriss trying to get a glimpse of the magazine. I almost kicked her under the table.

Queen Amberly stood up from her seat and cleared her throat softly, grabbing our attention.

"Ladies, I have an announcement to make." She folded her hands in front of her and her brow furrowed. "I am sorry to say that Silvia is no longer with us. She will be serving as a teacher elsewhere, so from now on I will be giving you your assignments and teaching you any remaining lessons on etiquette for the remainder of the Selection. I would like for you all to meet me in the Women's Room at noon today."

We all sat it stunned silence. Kriss was the first to speak. "Is Silvia still somewhere in the palace, Queen Amberly?"

"No," Queen Amberly said, not elaborating any further.

She waited a few seconds longer to make sure there were no other questions, then motioned for the waiters to come in and start serving breakfast. Before she sat down she caught my eye and gave me a sympathetic smile. I tried to smile back, but my muscles wouldn't move. I stared down at my empty plate.

I picked at my food all through breakfast. I had no appetite for once. I felt guilty about Silvia, but she had given me the words – she wanted them to be said aloud. She handed them to someone who had the power to say them, and who was better than the person who believed every word? I couldn't be sorry that I had not stuck with the speech she had originally given to me. I was only sorry she was suffering the consequences. If there was one thing I knew, however, it was that Silvia was not stupid – she had to know there would be consequences for writing my presentation the way she had. Even now, when I had had time to think it over, I wouldn't have done anything differently. I would've given life to the words she had no power to say herself.

I dared to peek up at Maxon. He was looking at me with an anxious expression on his face. He lifted his hand to his ear, but he hesitated at the last second and didn't tug it. I felt myself deflate.

I got up first from breakfast and walked slowly to my room, feeling the day like a weight that was going to crush me.

When I got to my room I grabbed a light pea coat and strode down the staircase to the double doors that led to the gardens. Even though I needed a guard to walk around with me, it was better than wallowing in my room.

When I got to the double doors, there were four guards instead of the regular two. I told them I'd like to walk around a bit, and they called for a guard to escort me.

"Lady America would like to take a walk around the gardens, can you please send another guard to escort her?" I heard a tall, scruffy one say into his earpiece. He straightened and nodded at me, telling me someone was on their way.

I heard heavy boots on the granite floor behind me. I turned and almost went right back up the stairs when I saw the guard approaching.

"Officer Leger," the tall scruffy guard greeted.

"Officer Jameson," Aspen said, saluting the officer.

Officer Jameson opened the garden doors for us, and I walked outside quickly, making Aspen run to catch up with me.

I walked at that same pace for a few minutes until I was warm. Then I slowed my gait, taking time to study the flowers in the garden that were still alive, even in winter.

"Mer," Aspen whispered.

I bent down to smell a white flower that I didn't recognize. It smelled heavenly. "These are quite beautiful. I have never seen them before. Do you think they only grow in certain parts of the country?"

"Mer, you can't avoid me forever."

I turned to face him. "I am not avoiding you, Aspen. I just don't want this to be harder than it has to be. I think you know what I have decided."

Aspen snorted. "No, I don't know. The last time we spoke, you told me you were going home. And I was prepared to give you time to get over him. I was ready to do that for you, Mer. But now you are still here. And you're _fighting_ for him."

I sighed. I hoped my fighting was that obvious to Maxon. "Yes, I am."

Aspen folded his arms in front of him and faced the other way. His breathing turned heavy. "I never stood a chance, did I?" he asked, frustrated. I saw angry tears in his eyes.

"Aspen," I said tiredly, "You had me all to yourself for two long years. Then you let me go. I know it was for… noble reasons. But you also let me go because of your pride. How can I know that your pride won't be a problem with us if I were to choose you? And besides…" I stopped, immediately knowing I was going too far.

"What, Mer?" Aspen said, rotating to face me, his arms still folded.

"Nothing," I mumbled. I started to walk back towards the palace.

"No, Mer, what were you going to say?" Aspen insisted, following closely behind me. His military training left his posture.

"I said, _nothing_," I repeated. I had my hands balled into little fists by my sides.

Aspen grabbed my arm and spun me around. "Just tell me like it is, Mer. You say my pride gets in the way, but you are the one being stubborn."

I sighed. "Okay, fine. But I warned you, you don't want to hear it."

"Mer," Aspen scolded.

I swallowed hard. I never thought the first person I would say these words to was Aspen.

"I love him," I whispered. "I love Maxon. I don't want to live without him. I may have to… but I don't want to. He believes in me, Aspen. And even though he is frustrated by my audacity sometimes, I know he believes in me. He thinks I can be with him, and everything that comes with it."

I watched Aspen's face turn from shock to distress. "So, that's it then?"

"What?"

"You and me. We're finished?" His face was hard.

"Yes," I whispered. "I'm sorry, Aspen. I wanted it to be you, but if we were meant to spend our lives together, in love, I would never have fallen for Maxon. Despite everything, I can't stop loving him. Loving Maxon is as easy as breathing."

Aspen just stared at me. The angry tears were gone. All that was left was defeat and contempt. I knew that contempt was for Maxon, when truly, it was meant for me.

Is that what I was, an instigator of condemnation? First Silvia, and now Maxon. Maybe Maxon was wrong to believe in me.

"Lady America, is everything alright?" I heard from above my head.

I looked up and saw Maxon looking down at me in concern. His hair was untidy and his collar and tie was loose.

Aspen and I were far too close to each other. I jumped back slightly, while Aspen clicked his boots together and bowed.

Maxon tugged his ear quickly before Aspen looked back up. I nodded discreetly.

"Officer, would you escort Lady America back to her room? I will be there shortly," Maxon said, pulling his tie back to its original position. He watched as Aspen and I walked away, now about ten feet apart.

When I got to my room, I walked in and shut the door without saying goodbye to Aspen. I shrugged off my coat and sat on my bed, fiddling with my hands as I waited nervously for Maxon. How much had he heard?

I heard two deep, male voices on the other side of my door. I anxiously started bobbing my foot up and down.

When Maxon finally entered the room, he didn't look angry. The only emotion he revealed was apprehension.

"America, is everything all right? Was he giving you trouble?" Maxon asked, coming to stand right in front of me. He obviously hadn't gathered any of my conversation with Aspen. I suppressed a sigh of relief.

"No, no," I said, putting my head down. "I just… I wanted to stay out, and he was urging me to go back inside. It's just been so stuffy in here, you know?" I gritted my teeth at the lie.

"I see," Maxon said, sitting down next to me. His brown eyes locked on mine. "I'm sorry it's been stuffy."

And there he was, believing in me when he shouldn't. I turned my body to face him.

"Are you angry with me, Maxon?" I asked quietly.

He shook his head. "Not angry… Just a little frustrated and confused. America, you had to know the result of reading that speech would not be good, right?"

I sighed. "I wasn't sure. It was a good way to appease anyone who was… angry, or frustrated and confused, as you say, by my presentation last week. But it also didn't compromise what I believe in. The first speech went against everything I morally believe to be true and correct. I would have read it though… for you. But I was given the opportunity to do something different, so I did."

Maxon blew out a puff of air. "America, you don't think sometimes. If you were willing to read the first speech Silvia had written for you, and you were prepared to do so even though you couldn't stand by it, why didn't you just say it knowing there would be no consequences? Why would you go with the option that raises the odds that there _will_ be consequences?" he countered, running his hands through his hair.

"I could say the same about you," I retorted.

"What?"

"I said, I could say the same about you," I repeated, blushing furiously. "I am the option that 'raises the odds that there will be consequences.' Why don't you just pick someone that won't ever cost you anything? Kriss would be perfect. You don't ever have to worry about her choosing to take risks. She's _safe_. You said so yourself." I folded my arms over my chest defiantly. I couldn't even care right now.

Maxon took a deep breath, visibly trying to stay calm. "Yes, I have said that. But if what I wanted was safe, you wouldn't be here."

I almost told him I wasn't sure why I was here half the time, but I bit my tongue. Wasn't part of winning his trust back allowing him to make some decisions that maybe I wasn't sure of? He always had something up his sleeve… Couldn't I trust him with why he wanted me?

Reluctantly, I decided I could. Aspen was right – my pride was as big as his was.

"Fine," I said, grabbing a pillow from beside me and hugging it to my chest cheekily.

"You're so stubborn," Maxon said softly.

"I know."

"Don't you want to know where Silvia is?"

"Am I allowed to ask?"

"Yes."

He was silent after that. I finally gave in and looked over at him. He cocked an eyebrow, waiting for me to ask.

"Do I have to beg you to tell me, Your Royal Highness?"

"No," Maxon said, giving up a small smile. "She is working at a private elementary school just outside the palace. Silvia became a four when she came here, so it's been twenty years since she was a six. It would be too difficult for her to go back to that life. I think that was the first time I saw your idea in action. It wouldn't have been fair after twenty years of service and training the next royal generation to strip her of her caste and leave her to fend for herself."

"Your father allowed that?" I asked in shock.

"No," Maxon said, furrowing his brow. "He had originally stripped her of her caste, and he was going to send her off to a province that is comprised of mostly sevens and eights… but my mother rewrote the order and had some guards escort her to a family who was willing to take her in until she can get on her feet. She's probably only about ten miles from here."

I sighed in relief. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. I didn't do anything."

"You haven't yelled at me, yet," I contradicted.

"I'm not going to yell at you. I told you I'm not mad. Just… I wish that I could trust that you wouldn't make rash or irresponsible decisions," Maxon said, exasperated.

"Well I might spontaneously combust any minute now. You better leave before it rubs off on you," I snapped back.

"Okay," Maxon said, getting up to leave.

"That's it? Okay?" I said in astonishment.

"Yes. This conversation isn't going anywhere." He practically stomped out of the room. I threw my pillow at the door as it clicked shut.

I suddenly felt very alone in my empty room. I curled up on my side and looked out my window until noon. How would I manage being a princess if the two best people I knew were already giving me the silent treatment before lunch?


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9:

I reluctantly walked to the Women's Room at noon for my meeting with the queen. Luckily, she wasn't there yet, but all the other girls were. Kriss, Celeste, and Elise were all huddled together, discussing something in hushed tones. I saw Elise shake her head and frown disapprovingly to whatever had been said. Then she saw me standing in the doorway and smiled.

"America! Would you like to sit with me?" she asked, patting the spot next to her.

"Sure," I said as Celeste and Kriss snapped back into their seats, no longer talking.

I sat down and we all stayed in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes until the queen walked in. She had a thin stack of paperwork in her hands.

"Good afternoon, ladies," she said cheerfully, taking a seat close to me. "I have your next assignment."

Celeste groaned in displeasure while Kriss folded her hands in her lap and made her back ramrod straight. I almost laughed at her exaggerated effort to impress Queen Amberly.

"Christmas is just around the corner, and so we will be having our annual Christmas Ball," Queen Amberly began. "As you know by now, part of a queen's job is to help plan such events, and I am interested to see how each of you will contribute to this year's celebration. I have carefully picked a job for each of you girls. I want to play on your strengths – I feel as though I know each of you well enough by now to decipher where your strong and weak points are."

She looked down at the little stack of papers. She handed the first to Celeste. "Lady Celeste, I have assigned you to activities that will take place during the ball. For example, you can do as something as simple as a ring toss, or as complicated as a raffle. It's up to you." Celeste looked pleased enough. It was probably one of the biggest jobs – you definitely had to get creative.

"Lady Elise," the queen said, handing her the assignment. "I would like for you to be in charge of the meals at the ball. I think some different meal traditions, like the ones practiced in New Asia, would add a little something to our feast this year." Elise smiled happily.

She handed the next assignment to Kriss. "I would like for you to be in charge of decorations for this year's ball, Lady Kriss. I think you were perhaps the most challenging to pick a topic for – while you would do well in all areas, I believe, I would like to see some creativity." Kriss nodded, going into study mode immediately.

"And last, but not least, Lady America." She turned the last sheet of paper over to me. I beamed up at her when I saw my job. "Music," she simply said.

We were told we could stay in the Women's Room to start brainstorming our ideas, or go to another part of the palace to have some privacy. I elected to go to my room and practice some Christmas pieces so I wouldn't disturb anyone else.

I first started on the piano, playing some well-known Christmas songs. Then I moved to my violin, playing my favorite, The Christmas Song. I whispered the lyrics to myself as I played.

"_Chestnuts roasting on an open fire, Jack Frost nipping at your nose, Yuletide carols being sung by a choir, and folks dressed up like Eskimos…_

"_Everybody knows a turkey and some mistletoe help to make the season bright…_

I began to hum the tune to myself until I got to the end. "_Although it's been said many times, many ways, a very Merry Christmas to you…"_

Applause sounded from my doorway, and I whipped around, hoping to see Maxon. It was only Lucy, who had come in to set out my evening gown.

"Oh, miss, that was beautiful," she sighed with pleasure.

"Thanks, Lucy," I said, putting my violin down. "That one is my favorite."

"It is a rather nice one," Lucy said, draping my gown over the bed. This time it was a royal blue with a sweetheart neckline.

"That dress is gorgeous, Lucy. You really out-did yourself this time," I complimented.

"Mary and I worked on it together," Lucy said shyly. "You know, that song you were playing reminded me of the Christmas parties all the servants, and maids, and cooks have on the night of Christmas Eve. Did you know that there are a couple dozen of us who were fives up until we were of age? The fives who decided to come here dropped a few castes, but the living conditions were better at the palace. So some of us play music. Perhaps a little out of practice, but on special occasions like Christmas, we all get together and eat Christmas leftovers and play music and sing – oh, America, it's so wonderful. I wish everyone could be there."

"That does sound wonderful," I said honestly. "I wish I could be there, too. It's too bad you all can't join in at the ball –" I stopped, a slow smile spreading across my face.

"Lady America?" Lucy questioned, a smile lighting up her face as well.

"It just so happens, Lucy, that I am this year's music director for the Christmas ball," I said with authority. Why couldn't the servants who played music play at the ball? And for those who didn't play, maybe they could sing in a choir. I knew there might be some schedules to change with servants and waiters serving meals and hosting guests, but with even just a fraction of the servants who could play, something really amazing could be put together. It would also provide a small Christmas bonus to those who played an instrument or sang.

Lucy's eyes had widened. "You mean the servants can do a Christmas program? And go to the ball? Can we do that?"

I smiled. "I don't know, but that's what we're doing."

I told Lucy to spread the word that I wanted to meet with the servants who could play an instrument tomorrow afternoon in my room at one o'clock sharp. I told her to ask other servants who were willing to cover for those who would be meeting with me, and she promised me it shouldn't be a problem since it was after lunchtime.

I was so giddy with excitement, I could hardly contain myself. I wrote a brief outline of the program, playing the piano here and there to find good transition points between songs for the rest of the afternoon. I didn't stop until Anne, Mary and Lucy came in to help me into my evening gown, which fit me like a glove.

As Anne finished up my make-up, which only consisted of a light pink blush and some mascara, she said, "Miss, I love your idea to include the servants in performing at the ball… I actually do quite like to sing."

"You sing? How come you never told me, Anne?" I said, smiling warmly at her.

"Well, I was born a seven, it has never been my job to sing. But on my free time, I love to." She looked down in embarrassment.

"Anne, I was thinking of putting together a choir as well. Would you like to sing if I can get enough people together to do it?" I said, reaching out to hold one of her hands.

"Oh, yes! I would love that!" Anne said eagerly. "You truly are something else, Lady America. I am so fortunate I was assigned to be one of your maids."

It was my turn to blush. "I couldn't have asked for better help. You guys always make me look better than I ever thought I could."

Lucy and Mary beamed behind Anne. We all came together for a small group hug, Anne keeping it loose so no one smudged my make-up. They shooed me off to dinner, dabbing their happy tears.

As I strolled out to dinner, I couldn't stop thinking about my plans for the ball. How surprised would everyone be to see the talent their own maids had? I thought about the waiters and butlers and others I had seen around the palace, but never had the chance to get to know. Their passions and talents were invisible to me, as they were to everyone else. This was not only a chance to give them a better Christmas, but also show everyone that the nameless servants were people with dreams and ambitions, too.

After my day, dinner was rather uneventful. Maxon and his father were missing, probably at some important meeting – I hoped. The queen was there, but this time she sat next to Elise, joining in on the quiet and polite conversation I and the other girls made. Although she never said it, probably because the queen was there, I could tell Celeste wanted to rip the royal blue dress right off my back. It wouldn't have been the first time she tried.

When I was finished with dinner, I went straight back up to my room, very tired from the day's events. I hoped that Maxon would come to visit me tonight, but I knew it wasn't likely since our conversation had turned sour this morning.

My maids bid me goodnight after they helped me slip out of my dress and took out the braid at the crown of my head, leaving my hair waving into my face. I crawled into bed, falling asleep within seconds of my head hitting the pillow.

A short time later, I felt someone shaking my shoulder lightly. It wasn't morning already, was it?

"No," I murmured, still half asleep.

"America," a deep, but soft voice whispered.

My eyes flew open. "Maxon?"

"Yeah. It's me," Maxon said, chuckling lightly.

I looked over at the clock in the corner of the room. "Maxon, it's nearly one in the morning. What are you doing here?"

"Do you not wish to see me?" he asked, mock hurt crossing his face.

"No!" I said a little too loudly, pushing up onto my elbows. "I mean, of course I want to see you," I whispered.

He grinned. He began to repeatedly push my wavy hair away from my face, letting his fingers linger on my cheek. "I just wanted to talk to you… I was thinking a lot about what you said… not just today, but yesterday during the _Report_, and even the week before that. I hate to keep bringing it up, but I don't want to argue anymore. I want you to know that _I know_ what you are saying… And although I understand to an extent what it is like to feel trapped where you are and to not have a choice in what you want to do and who you want to be…" he stopped, locking his brown eyes with my blue ones. "I haven't exactly seen or experienced all the things you have. I don't know what it's like to live with no electricity, or not know where my next meal is coming from. You are right, America. And even though you aren't always sure _how_ to change things, the point is you know that they need to – somehow and some way.

"So, America, I apologize for being so hard on you and not allowing you to say what you believe in without repercussions. That was wrong on my part. Can you forgive me?" he asked, his face sad and defeated.

I scooted up and kissed him softly on the lips. "Of course I do. That means so much to me, Maxon."

He smiled, coming in for another kiss.

When he pulled back, I said, "As nice as this is, did you have to tell me at one in the morning?"

He laughed. "Yes, actually. First off, I can't get away from my father if my life depended on it. Which sadly, sometimes it does. Secondly…"

He grabbed my hand and kissed my palm. My heart rate sped up.

"Secondly?" I asked as he trailed kisses down to my wrist.

"I have a surprise for you," he said secretively. He leaned in and kissed my cheek, then started to trace a path down to my jaw.

"Oh, yeah?" I said, trying to breath evenly.

"Mmhmm," he murmured.

I closed my eyes as he folded his fingers into my hair. "What is it?"

He stopped suddenly, pulling back to look at me. "You will see. Go get dressed."

"What?" I said, my eyes popping open. "We're going somewhere?"

He nodded. "You have to hurry though. We only have until the sun comes up."

I looked at him in disbelief.

"Come on, don't you trust me?" Maxon asked, pouting.

I offered him a wide smile. I pulled my blankets off of me and ran to my wardrobe. I grabbed one of the pairs of jeans he'd given me so long ago, and a soft white sweater. I ran into the bathroom and changed quickly, pulling my hair into a ponytail and brushing my teeth once more before meeting him outside the bathroom.

"Ready for our little field trip?" he asked, handing me the pair of old red flats I had worn here on my first day of the Selection.

"Yes. Where are we going?" I asked again.

He smiled slowly as he put his finger to his lips in a silent _Shhh_. He grabbed my hand and led me out of the room, running so I could hardly keep up.

**Thank you for reading! Review, follow, and favorite to find out what happens next! ;)**

**A.R. Darcangelo**


	10. Chapter 10

**Thank you for following and reviewing! There is lots of Maxerica this chapter (as promised, lilythemermaid! - love your fanfic by the way!) and Guest mih, he will find out soon, just not today! Also, thank you to the reviewers who have been so consistent over the past few weeks, theselectionqueen, Dhenn618, prnamber3909, Athenachild101, and lily. Thank you to all the new reviewers as well - you all have been so positive and supportive. **

**Let me know what y'all think of this chapter! ;)**

**A.R. Darcangelo**

Chapter 10:

Maxon pulled me along, only slowing down as we took corners. He came to a stop in front of his door.

"Your room?" I asked with a smile.

He grinned, opening the door. It took me a moment to realize Aspen was standing outside his door. His eyes locked with mine momentarily, but the door shut and our gaze was severed.

Maxon led me over to a door that connected to his room, right next to his desk. His desk was covered in paperwork, pens, newspaper clippings, and the magazine that Celeste had shown me at breakfast.

"I didn't pin you as the gossiping type," I teased, nodding toward the magazine.

"Not usually," Maxon shrugged. "I saw something I was interested in." He didn't elaborate.

He opened the door to the next room. It was pitch black except for the small amount of moonlight coming in between the slats in the heavy curtains.

"Ummm… I need you to close your eyes – just for a minute." Maxon got behind me and covered my eyes with his hands.

"It's not like I can see anything anyways," I said, rolling my eyes into his palms.

"Just in case," he responded, trying to sound nonchalant.

He led me through the room, and I heard another door creak open. It shut and I heard him flip on a light switch.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now," he said, taking his hands off my eyes.

We were at the top of a narrow staircase that twisted down to the right. It spiraled down into a safe room.

"This is where we are going? A safe room?" I asked incredulously.

Maxon chuckled. "Don't be silly. We're almost there."

He grabbed my hand and we started our descent down the staircase.

"Was there not an easier way to get where we are going than halfway through the castle?" I inquired.

"Yes, but I needed to bring you here a way where the guards would _think_ they knew where we were. By bringing you through my room, no one will ask any questions."

"Oh, so you're kidnapping me? Should I be scared?" I said with a snicker.

Maxon stopped suddenly, facing me. He was a large step below me, so we were at eye level. His brown eyes shone with mischief.

I swallowed hard.

Maxon put a hand at my waist and pulled me close to him, his lips only centimeters from mine. "I hope you'll let me kidnap you often," he whispered against my lips.

My lips curved into a smile under his. He leaned in those few centimeters and pressed his mouth against mine. The kiss started gentle, then began to grow into something passionate and deep. My fingers had braided themselves into his soft blonde hair, and his hands were circling my waist, his fingertips pressing into my ribcage.

I let my hands slide out of his hair and down his neck, finally letting them rest on his chest. Maxon sighed, wrapping his arms completely around me so there was nothing but my hands between us. In the constricted space, I let my hands wander to the buttons on his shirt. I undid the first one shakily, and then the second. My hands could not move down any further between us, so I let my hands rest on the exposed part of his chest.

Maxon suddenly moved up a step, bending down to reach my lips. His hands had gone back to holding my waist. I quickly unbuttoned the remaining buttons on his shirt when the space became free. I ran my hands up and down the sculpted parts of his chest, feeling how strong and beautiful he was. He didn't ever stop me; his breaths only started to become heavier, intoxicated with the feeling of being this way with me.

I wanted Maxon. All of him, for as long as I could have him. But I also knew he wasn't completely mine to have – yet. As determined as I was to win back his trust and be with him, I knew we couldn't fully give ourselves to each other until we both knew we were each other's alone.

I sighed, letting my kiss soften. His did as well, and although I couldn't be sure, the look in his eyes as he pulled away told me he was thinking the same thing.

As we caught our breath, he continued to hold onto me. Then, unexpectedly, he laughed.

"What's so funny?" I asked, my eyebrows drawing together.

He put his forehead against mine. "I don't know if kidnapping you is such a great idea. I can't walk ten feet without you diverting my attention."

"Sorry," I said, not feeling sorry at all. I grinned.

He pecked me on the lips before reaching for his buttons and fastening them again. "Shall we?" he asked, gesturing down the remainder of the stairs.

When we walked into the wide space of the safe room, Maxon proceeded to press some unseen switch on the stone wall, and it slid inward, revealing another hidden passageway.

"Boy, when they built this place they really invested in safe rooms inside their safe rooms."

Maxon rolled his eyes. "This is not another safe room. This is a hallway that leads to the servant's quarters."

"The servant's quarters?" I said, poking my head through the door.

"Yes. Come on," he said, taking my hand again.

We walked down the hall, and about twenty yards in, there were shabby wooden doors about ten feet apart up as far as you could see down the narrow hall. It reminded me of the apartment building Kota lived in, except these living quarters looked significantly smaller and timeworn.

Maxon stopped at a door with the number 16 nailed to it in a faded gold. He smiled at me crookedly once before knocking on the door.

The door swung open almost immediately, revealing a golden haired beauty and my best friend.

"_Marlee_!" I squealed, tearing away from Maxon and jumping into her arms. She hugged me back, bouncing on her toes. I spotted Maxon behind us, covering his ears at our girlish squealing, but he was grinning widely and chuckling.

"It's been too long since I've seen you, America! I am so glad you are still here!" Marlee said, squeezing me tighter.

"Me too, " I said, thinking that I hadn't even remembered leaving Marlee behind too if I had to leave the palace. I was suddenly even more grateful that Maxon had been able to pull some strings so I could stay.

Behind Marlee, I spied Carter, looking much like Maxon, with his hands covering his ears and a smile on his face. Marlee turned around and smiled adoringly at him.

"Hello, Lady America," Carter said, putting his hands down.

"Hello, Carter," I said, breaking away from Marlee's embrace.

I saw his eyes shift behind me. "Prince Maxon," Carter said, bowing slightly.

Maxon stepped in Marlee and Carter's tiny home. "I told you, please call me Maxon," he replied, holding out a hand to shake Carter's.

"I'm ready whenever you're ready… Maxon," Carter said, looking a bit uncomfortable saying Maxon's name without the word 'prince' attached to it.

I looked at Maxon with a confused expression.

Maxon put his hand at the small of my back. "Why don't you visit with Marlee for a few minutes? Then we'll go."

"You mean this isn't our last stop?" I said in disbelief.

"No," Maxon said with a smile. He walked to the other side of the room with Carter and they began a quiet discussion.

"So! How have you been, America? From what I hear, you're already making some major changes to the country!" Marlee said with laughter in her eyes.

I sighed. "Yeah, not one of my smartest ideas, but what can I do about it now?"

She shrugged. "You know everyone is on your side, America. I hear it all the time. No one can stop talking about you. Everything filters through the servants. We see and hear _everything_."

"That doesn't surprise me," I laughed. "I'm sorry we're keeping you and Carter up so late. You must've known we were coming." I glanced in Maxon's direction suspiciously.

Marlee giggled. "Yes, Maxon came down for a minute this afternoon during lunch and asked if we would like to visit. I told him anytime, and of course he said that was perfect, since you would need to visit in the wee hours of the morning."

My eyebrows came together. "I have visited you during the day before though. He still hasn't told me what we're doing."

Marlee smiled knowingly. "I don't want to ruin anything. I know he wants to surprise you." She glanced behind her to make sure the boys weren't listening in. Her voice dropped to a low whisper. "He would do anything for you, America. I think he's risking a lot tonight."

I thought about that for a moment. Not even a day ago, we had argued because I was the higher risk. Just being with me put him in a jeopardizing position with his father, and if we couldn't keep my name up in the polls, the people would be upset with his decision as well, causing all sorts of trouble.

But if he was willing to take a risk with me tonight, whatever it was, it must mean he really wants me to stay – and for the long term. I smiled at the thought.

Maxon walked back to the front door, Carter on his heels. He had changed from his white dress shirt to a brown pullover that looked close to the same fabric as a potato sack, and his pants were a loose fitting pair of jeans with slightly frayed ends. His hair was mused as well – although I wondered if he had done that himself, or if that had been me.

Carter surprised me – he was in a military uniform, and although it didn't look as clean and pressed as the guards who walked around the palace, he would easily pass as a guard in one of the provinces outside the palace.

"Maxon, what in the world are you doing?" I asked, looking him up and down. I actually kind of liked this scruffed up version of him. It was kind of rugged and romantic all at the same time.

"We're going out," Maxon said, tugging on the shirt that was a little too big on him.

"Where?" I said stupidly.

He smiled at my confusion. "Outside the palace, sweetheart."

"_Why?_"

Marlee discreetly walked over to Carter and led him away from us, moving to the tiny kitchen in the corner of the room, giving us some privacy.

Maxon took both my hands in his. "America, I can't possibly understand what my country needs unless I see things for myself. And experiencing what you experienced – and I know sometimes worse – would help me to see things from your perspective. And my people's perspective. It hurts to know that this is something I am only discovering now. But I want to fix things, America. And besides, I promised you I had a plan to get the people to favor you again… Although it looks like you've already done that yourself," he said with a warm smile. I knew he must have seen the poll in Celeste's magazine then.

"How is sneaking out of the palace going to win me favor with the people? And Maxon, there are people out there that don't know you like I do. They don't like you, _period_. How are you going to protect yourself?" I asked, my voice rising in pitch as I tried to fathom the thought of a wandering rebel attacking him in the middle of the night.

"The people we will meet will get to know you personally. And me as well. It will simultaneously put you up in the polls, and if anyone we meet has connections with the rebels, hopefully it will lessen the attacks here at the palace. That is best case scenario anyway. And we have Carter to protect us," he said, grinning from ear to ear.

"How long have you been planning this? You've really thought this through," I said, impressed.

"Only for the past week or so, starting when my father left. I told you we had to come up with some ideas to help you be the people's favorite. You didn't think I forgot about that, did you?" Maxon said, tugging on my ponytail.

Carter had reappeared at Maxon's side. "So, are we ready to sneak out of this place?" he said with a toothy grin.

I beamed at Maxon. He returned my smile and grabbed my hand.


	11. Chapter 11

**Thank you so much, guys! I hope you all like this chapter - I spent a ton of time editing and trying to come up with something that would stay true to the characters. Let me know what you all think!**

**A.R. Darcangelo**

Chapter 11:

Maxon gripped my hand as Carter navigated us underground the palace. Marlee had given me a floppy crocheted hat to cover some of my flaming red hair, which I'd re-braided so the cap would fit. I also wore a long vest in a worn jean fabric over my sweater, which looked a little less obvious underneath.

Carter stopped at a door at the end of the passage. "This is where the food shipments come in."

"And how long have you known about this without telling me?" I scolded. Carter laughed and Maxon gave me a playful nudge.

We walked through the large warehouse underneath the palace. When we walked by some wooden crates filled with fruit, I saw Maxon slip a few peaches and apples into the pockets of his baggy pants. He tossed one peach to me and winked.

Carter came to a slanted block of cement that curved upward towards a metal door with about six padlocks keeping it bolted shut.

"Would you mind helping me with these?" Carter asked, handing a set of keys to Maxon.

Maxon let go of my hand temporarily as they unlocked each padlock, careful not to make a lot of noise. I raised my head and looked around the warehouse, which was partially a large freezer where I was sure they carried most of the meat. I wondered how many people they could feed with all the food that was stored here. I was sure that every person in Illéa could be full for one day if all the food was evenly distributed around the country. The thought made me sad that it was all in one place.

"America?" Maxon whispered. I turned around and saw that he was holding his hand out to me. The metal door was slightly rolled up so that there was just enough room for us to squeeze under. I took his hand and followed him up the cement ramp.

Maxon went first, looking around for a moment before tugging on my hand. I bent down and slipped through the rolling door, and got my first glimpse outside of the palace in months.

We were in a lot where trucks came in for deliveries, and behind that was a barbed wire fence that led into the woods that I had gotten lost in behind the palace garden once. Maxon and Carter padlocked the metal door from the outside, and then we walked along the barbed wire fence until we were overlooking a small city, the province outside the palace, which had a minimal amount of twinkling streetlights shining up at us.

"Ready?" I asked Maxon, who looked a slightly nervous.

Despite his apparent discomfort, he nodded. We followed Carter down the small hill and through a thin thicket of trees. The only light came from the moon, but it was so bright tonight that it didn't matter. When we reached the edge of the province, Carter turned to us.

"There are a lot of homeless eights over that way," he said, pointing towards a cluttered line of buildings with an alleyway behind it. "I'll stay behind you, but I will be far enough back so that no one will notice me – but I'll also be close enough so that if you run into trouble, I can intervene." He patted the gun on his hip.

Maxon nodded once to him in a silent thank-you. We turned towards the buildings and started walking.

Right before we turned the corner into the first alleyway, Maxon pulled on my hand to stop me.

"Maxon?" I asked anxiously.

His face was a mask of apprehension. "America, what if everyone is so far gone with anger that it's too late?"

I placed my hand on his cheek. He leaned into it. "Maxon, it's never too late to do the right thing. And they aren't angry with you. They don't know you."

Even as I said the words, I realized that before I had come to the palace and met Maxon, I assumed he was just like his father and every other ruler Illéa ever had. Uncaring, rich snobs that only wanted to dominate their people and force them into a livelihood they couldn't change.

But the point in doing this was to let the people know Maxon was different. He wanted people to know he cared about them and that he wanted change as much as they did.

I tugged on Maxon's hand gently. He let his feet shuffle forward.

As we trudged through the alley, there wasn't much to see at first. The alley was empty and wet from the small amount of rain that had come earlier in the night.

About halfway down, we spotted an older woman wrapped in a damp shawl, sleeping. Maxon stared down at her in disbelief, his expression horrified. He had probably never seen a beggar before.

The woman reminded me of the one I saw while I was leaving Carolina for the Selection. I had spotted her on my way out, wishing I could give her one piece of the richness I was going to experience, even if only for a day.

I reached into one of his pockets and picked out a peach. I remember back home peaches being a luxury as far as fruit went. They were rare in Carolina, and therefore expensive to ship. I had gotten a peach as a birthday present once. They were my second favorite, next to strawberries. I placed the fruit in the woman's open left hand, which lay open limply, while her right clutched the damp shawl to her.

Her eyes flickered open at the sudden weight in her hand. I quickly put my pointer finger up to my lips. I offered her a smile.

She looked down at the peach in her hand and her eyes widened. She smiled back up at me. Some of her teeth were missing.

She spotted Maxon behind me and her smile turned coy. She put two fingers to her chin and brushed them up against her face. I looked at her in confusion. She started spelling the word she was trying to say with her hand. I realized she was speaking American Sign Language, a language that was nearly non-existent after Illéa had been erected.

I covered my mouth with my hand to cover my laughter. I realized she was telling me Maxon was cute. I turned to him and he stared at me, puzzled.

"She thinks you're cute," I clarified in a low whisper.

"Oh." Maxon gave me an impish smile.

I turned back to the woman who was now staring at Maxon in bewilderment. Her eyes lit up as she took in his features. She mouthed the word "him" and pointed up.

I glanced back at Maxon, who was rocking on his feet nervously. I tugged on his hand so he was kneeling down next to me. I put my hand on his chest, right over his heart. I mouthed the word "help" and pointed at the woman.

She took her eyes off my hand and let them land on Maxon. She glanced back down at the peach in her hand and mouthed the words "thank you" as she lifted her hand back up to her chin, palm flat, and held it out again.

I made the same gesture, thanking her back. She smiled up at us as we stood up and started to walk further down the alley, hand in hand.

"You are amazing," Maxon whispered in my ear.

"You just have to let them see you want to help them," I said, nudging him with my elbow. "She even thought you were cute."

Maxon chuckled and wheezed a bit at the ridiculousness of it. "I think I'm too young for her."

I snorted. "Forget being too young. You're taken." I reached up on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

He smiled crookedly, but was distracted by something in front of him.

There was a young couple standing about ten feet in front of us, hidden in the shadow of a tall building, embracing. As we moved closer, I realized the girl was sobbing softly into the boy's shoulder.

"It's going to be okay…" the boy consoled the girl, who only cried harder.

"My family will n-never speak to m-me again," she hiccupped.

"I won't make you choose, Liz," the boy said, rubbing the girl's back. He suddenly looked up, spotting Maxon and I. He immediately pushed the girl behind him. "Please, we just needed to talk. I promise it won't happen again." He squinted and realized we weren't soldiers. "Oh," He said, sighing in relief. "I thought you were some of the guards."

"That's quite alright," Maxon said, looking a little uncomfortable. I assumed it was the crying girl that was causing his discomfort. But regardless, Maxon was always looking for some way to help, even if he wasn't sure how. "Is there anything I can do?"

The boy looked back at the girl named Liz. "No… I am afraid there is nothing. Unless you are the crowned prince of Illéa, there is nothing any of us can do, is there?"

Maxon swallowed hard.

"So, what's wrong? Is she hurt?" I intervened, trying to deter the conversation.

I was too late though. The boy took another step forward and stared intently at Maxon. "Actually, you look a lot like Prince Maxon. Do you ever get mistaken for him? How awkward is that, considering he – "

He stopped speaking suddenly, absorbing Maxon's discomfort as confirmation. "_You_." He marched forward. "This is all _your_ fault. I don't care _who_ you think you are –"

I met the boy halfway and put my hand to his chest. "Hey! You don't know him. Give him a chance." I wasn't begging – I was giving him an order. The boy stopped his march and raised an eyebrow at me.

Maxon put an arm in front of me and pushed me behind him softly. "Look, I know you are angry. But how does attacking me help you? I am not here to hurt you or the girl. We just happened to come upon you by chance." He glanced back at me. "I meant it when I asked if there was something I could do to help."

The boy stared at Maxon in shock. "Are you serious?"

"Yes," Maxon replied calmly. I admired his ability to speak with meekness and regality. He was strong, not one to be stepped on, but he was approachable.

The boy took a deep breath and looked back at the girl behind him. She moved to stand next to him, grasping his arm. Her teary eyes looked into his. In that one look, I knew what was wrong. I remembered with clarity the feeling reflected in the girl's eyes as Aspen broke up with me, realizing we weren't going to be together anymore.

The boy began to tell their story. He was a six, like Aspen had been, and he had asked for the girl's hand in marriage. Her father had refused. It was more problematic for them though, because the girl was a three. Her clothes proved she was much better off than the boy was, and I felt my eyes burn at the memory of feeding Aspen in the little treehouse in the early hours of the morning.

At the end of their story, Maxon looked down and shook his head. "I promise that I won't forget you. What is your name?"

"Jay Burke," the boy said hesitantly.

Maxon took a deep breath. "I am sorry for the way things are… so that you cannot be together. But since I am the crowned prince of Illéa – " he smiled ironically, waiting for the boy's smile in return – "I think there _is_ something I can do. Can you meet someone here around noon tomorrow?"

The boy swallowed. "I am doing the gardening for a two tomorrow at twelve-thirty. I can't be late, I'll get fired."

"Don't worry about that," Maxon said. "It will only take a moment of your time."

The boy nodded, looking at Maxon with uncertainty.

Maxon regarded me, putting his arm around my shoulders. The girl's eyes lit up in recognition for the first time.

"You're America," she stated, looking at the braided red hair under my cap.

"Yes," I confirmed.

Maxon cleared his throat. "I think I know what it feels like to nearly lose someone you love. I would hate for that to happen when there is something I can do about it."

The boy nodded in understanding, trust in his eyes for the first time.

I gazed up at Maxon as he said that, realizing he was talking about me. My heart swelled.

As he fixed his eyes on me, I recognized his heart was, too.

At Maxon's request, the boy told us about more parts of town where sevens and eights wandered or slept at night. When Maxon and I told him why we were here, the boy had looked at us in shock. _Why_ _would you want to do that?_ he'd asked. Maxon made it clear he wanted things to be different, but because of his upbringing, he couldn't fully understand without seeing things for himself. The boy and girl both gawked at his willingness to see what things were like in the provinces for the lower castes, and immediately I felt a friendship begin to forge. The boy recommended that we start planning to meet with people in homes or old buildings that had been long abandoned, but Maxon deterred the idea, saying it was too dangerous in case a rebel heard about something like that and attacked while we only had one guard for protection.

I glanced behind me and saw Carter hiding in the shadows. I had heard him start to catch up with us when the boy had confronted Maxon, but he quickly allowed us to handle it.

I was so proud of Maxon. He had befriended this boy, a six, who he understood and connected with on so many levels. I always knew he cared about the people of Illéa, but seeing him in action and making a difference in one person's life was remarkable.

Maxon handed the boy an apple and a peach before we turned to leave. Over the next hour or so, we didn't visit any of the areas the boy had mentioned, but we did take a look at the harsher parts of town that looked too run down and poorly taken care of. Maxon quickly commented on how it seemed unfair that all the manual labor workers seemed to live in poorer conditions, while those with a comfortable job in an office lived very comfortably.

"The playing field can't be even when your position in society determines what you do for a living," I said to Maxon as we stood along a neighborhood much like my own. The houses were decent, but it was apparent they needed work. Some had broken windows, others had holes in the roof. Maxon only nodded slowly, deep in thought.

When the sky started to turn a light gray, Maxon sighed. It was time to go back to the palace.

As we walked now arm in arm with Carter following us, I could feel the tension radiating from Maxon. I yearned to ask what he was thinking, but decided it could wait. Part of being a princess was allowing him to process things on his own sometimes, and knowing that just being here for him was enough.

We snuck back into the palace the way we came. Carter and Maxon exchanged clothes again. Marlee was asleep when we got back to her and Carter's little home, so I just left her vest and hat on the old rocking chair in the corner of their room. Maxon and I didn't speak as we walked through the safe room and up the stairs. Maxon made me close my eyes again when we got to the top. It hadn't occurred to me until now, but I realized the room we were walking through must be the princess' suite. I blushed slightly at the thought. I wondered if the room was decorated for someone in particular, and that was why he didn't want me to see it.

When we got back into Maxon's room, Maxon let his hands fall to the side, and then he stopped moving. His room was in shreds – books were strewn across the floor, the comforter on his bed was torn so feathers were peeking out from under it, and the full length mirror in the corner of the room was shattered.

Maxon reached down and pulled a picture of me in the garden, smirking at him, from underneath a shard of glass.

"Do you think they are still here?" I whispered.

"The rebels? No. We would have run into a lot more guards outside the palace coming back in. This must've happened sometime while we were gone." Maxon padded over to his door and opened it just a crack so he could peek outside. He almost immediately pulled it wide open.

"Your highness!" I heard a guard shout. He appeared at the door. "Oh, and Lady America. Thank God!" He looked over his shoulder. "Leger, alert the king that we've found them!"

Maxon turned to me. "America, you'd better go back to your room. I'll have a guard escort you."

Maxon waved a guard over and directed him to escort me. As I walked past him, he caught my waist and whispered in my ear. "I'll see you soon. Stay safe." I nodded and let the guard follow me.

When we got to my room, it was nearly untouched. Only the piano bench was turned over, and my pillows and sheets lay all over the floor in a rumpled mess.

"I'll alert your maids that you are here," my guard said.

"Thank you," I replied, grateful to hear they were safe.

I started piling pillows on my bed, wondering how large the attack had been. Obviously large enough that the king had noted Maxon and I were both missing.

Just as I was about to curl up under my sheets, I noticed something lying on the table beside my bed. I sat up and picked up the white flower, unrolling the little note that was attached to the stem.

_Mer,_

_I know it's dangerous for me to be leaving you anything, but I just wanted you to know that you nearly scared me to death tonight. Shortly after you came to meet the prince, there was another rebel attack. It wasn't a big one, and we didn't lose anyone, but of course during our headcount you and the prince were unaccounted for. I went to the safe room under the suite next to the prince's, and you weren't there either – but on a whim, I went to your friend Marlee's house and checked to see if you were there, and she said you were doing some business with the prince, and you were also with her husband, former Officer Woodwork, so you were safe._

_I won't tell anyone you and the prince were with Marlee and Carter. No one will know. And seeing as you were with the prince, I won't ask questions. Whatever you did, I'll trust it was something important.*_

_-A_

_P.S. I also left the flower because you were admiring it the other day when we spoke in the garden. I also found out that yes, they only grow in certain provinces, and as a matter of fact, they are very rare. The king had them planted especially for the queen, as the garden was one of her favorite places to be. Sounds like someone I know. _

I smiled at the last little tidbit. As difficult as it was to say goodbye to our romance and allow myself to grow out of love with him, I was thankful Aspen was still my friend.

I held the flower to my chest as my head hit the pillow, letting sleep overtake me.

**Thank you for reading! Review, favorite, and follow!**

**P.S. The line with the asterisk is a line from The One. Kiera Cass released twelve teasers already, and this line is one of them. Also, did any of you do the live chat with her on twitter this past Wednesday? If you didn't, I am not sure if she posted it online, but I would try to check it out. It was basically a live Q&A session, and she answered a few of my own personal questions (which was flippin' awesome by the way). Perhaps if you can't get a hold of it, let me know and I'll post my questions with her answers, yeah? :)**

**A.R. Darcangelo**


	12. Chapter 12

**Thank you all so much for reading! The amount of views over just the past few days has been astounding!**

**Thank you especially to prnamber3909, Guest mih, magicdance123, AmberRena and Dhenn618 - you guys all took a few minutes to review the last chapter, and I really appreciate it! I like to know what you guys think of my story!**

**As always, rights belong to Kiera Cass!**

**A.****R. Darcangelo**

Chapter 12:

I woke to the sun from my window shining brightly in my face. I squinted and pulled my pillow over my face.

After a minute, I peeked from underneath the pillow to see what time it was. My clock read twelve thirty. _Twelve_ _thirty! _I was going to be late for my meeting with the servants.

I shot out of bed, pressing the call button for my maids. I was already washing shampoo out of my hair when they came in. They dressed me in a pastel yellow day dress that fell to my knees. My hair was in a simple twist on top of my head, still damp, but smoothed out with a comb.

"Lady America, what in the world happened to your neck?" Anne asked, horrified.

"What?" I asked, alarmed. I looked at myself in the mirror.

"There," Anne said, pointing to some red splotches on my neck.

I touched them tenderly. "I have no idea. You can work some magic though, right?" I looked up at Anne's reflection in the mirror. Her face was beet red.

"What is it?" I said, turning to her anxiously.

"Oh, nothing," she said, trying to hold back a smile as she started to pat concealer on my neck.

I opened my mouth to respond, but Lucy interrupted me. "My lady, some of the servants won't be able to meet with you today," Lucy whispered. "Many of us are still cleaning up the castle from last night's attack."

"Okay," I replied smoothing my hands over the front of my dress. "I'm sure everyone who can come will be able to spread word around to the others."

Lucy nodded. "Oh yes, my lady. I told eight of the servants yesterday, and they all promised they would tell anyone else they knew who could play. I am so excited!" She threw her fists up in front of her, shaking them ecstatically.

I giggled. "I am, too. I just hope no one misses their maids over the next couple of weeks."

Anne, Mary, and Lucy left me then, promising to send me up some lunch. I picked up my violin and began going over some of the pieces I had planned when I heard a hesitant knock at my door.

"Come in," I called, placing my violin down.

Three servants walked in, all dressed in kitchen attire. Two were young men, and the other a small framed woman who reminded me of Lucy.

"You called for us, miss?" she inquired, twisting her hands nervously in front of her.

"Yes," I said with a smile, walking up to her and greeting her with a warm hug. I shook the hands of the two young men.

"I do have a question for you first," I said, grinning wickedly.

"Yes, ma'am?" the woman said nervously.

I leaned forward dramatically. "Which one of you do I need to bribe to send me those strawberry tarts if I ever have to leave the palace?"

One of the young men laughed. "That would be Joe, but he's not here yet. He plays the flute. However, I wouldn't worry about having to leave the palace anytime soon if I were you."

The woman and the other young man joined in on his laughter. Just then, a girl popped her head in through the door. "Miss? Is this where…?" she trailed off tentatively.

"Yes," I laughed, holding my hand out, silently asking her to join us. She was followed by four more maids.

"What are your names?" I inquired, going around the room. I learned quickly that the girl who had poked her head in the door was named Julie, and she was one of Celeste's maids. I wondered idly if the fading bruise around her jaw was courtesy of Celeste. I made a mental note to keep her maids as busy as possible.

Another swift knock came at my door, and three more young men entered, quickly followed by another young man from the kitchen, and Joe, who I made promise he'd send me strawberry tarts if I went back to Carolina. After that another seven maids tiptoed into my room, all huddled together. At about one fifteen, I decided to start.

"Thank you all for coming," I said, looking at the twenty servants around the room. The maids had taken a seat on my bed, while some of the men stood by my balcony or sat on the floor.

"I have been assigned to direct the music program for this year's Christmas ball. I learned from one of my own maids that you have a Christmas party in the servant's quarters on the night of Christmas Eve, and that there are a handful of you that play an instrument. So, as the coordinator for this year's event, I would like to invite you to play at the ball. Of course, you'll be paid during the event as a five, and any servants not involved will simply take your place for the evening. I think that the palace should hear how talented and special you all are, and this is your opportunity." I took a deep breath. "So, what do you think?"

Joe spoke up first. "But we are servants. We can't just be fives for an evening," he protested.

I cleared my throat. "Normally, fives from outside provinces or twos that are pop singers are hired for such events, and are paid as such. Why can't you? It's not like they lose money on the deal." I scoffed at the idea of the royal family losing money. "And besides, with other servants taking on one other person's job as you play, they will get a bonus for their extra work, and so will you. It's a win-win situation."

Joe nodded in agreement. "Alright, I'm in."

One of Celeste's maids piped up. "But Lady America, what if we cannot get away from our duties to practice? I mean, most of us have time during the day where we aren't busy, but some of us…" she looked at the two other maids sitting beside her, who I knew were both thinking the same thing: Celeste never gave them a minute to breathe. It was a miracle they made it today.

"Ladies, I will make sure you have time to practice," I assured them, concocting a plan of my own. I smiled inwardly.

"I'm in," a young man from the kitchen said, waving a hand in the air.

"How about this? Everyone who will do it, say "I"," I said.

"'I!'" everyone around the room chorused together, beaming up at me.

I rubbed my hands together eagerly. "Excellent."

We spent the next half hour separating each person by instruments. There were seven violinists, two that played the piano, four that could play the flute, one bass player, three trumpet players, a trombonist, and two who claimed they were especially skilled on an acoustic guitar. I grouped them together and showed them an outline of the program I had written. Luckily, all of them had played or at least heard the songs. I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised, as they all were fives at one point. I wondered how bad things must have gotten for them all to give up playing, since they all seemed to enjoy it to some degree, and drop two castes to live in the palace. As hard as it was being a five sometimes, I wouldn't give up singing or playing for a life in the palace as a servant, even if the living conditions were better.

As the thought crossed my mind, I realized the only thing I loved more than singing and playing was Maxon. He was the only thing that could take me away from that livelihood. I knew I wouldn't have to really give it up being a princess – Maxon loved to hear me sing and play – but it wouldn't be my job description anymore. My heart warmed knowing how much Maxon meant to me. I could be with him, live more than a comfortable life, and continue to do what I loved.

"Lady America?" Julie said, smiling at my dazed expression.

"Yes? So sorry. I was daydreaming." I smiled coyly at her.

She giggled. "Oh, miss, I do hope you marry the prince. I don't think I could stay here another day if Lady Celeste were to be crowned." She shivered at the thought.

I laughed. "Me neither. Luckily, I wouldn't have to stay anyway, but I would be under her thumb if she was queen, and that's a hard pill to swallow."

She nodded vigorously. "Oh, yes. But I am not too worried." She smiled knowingly at me.

"Oh, stop it," I said, waving my hand at her smile. "You all can't know he'll choose me."

She just shrugged, keeping the smug smile on her face.

Around two, all the servants left my room, humming Christmas songs to themselves and quietly discussing the program. I had told them that it was up to them to share the program with those who couldn't make it, and I would send one of my maids to alert them of our next meeting time and place to practice.

It was fortunate most of the servants had their own instruments, and anyone who didn't was able to borrow old instruments that were in the palace's music room. They only needed to be tuned – and probably dusted.

For the remainder of the afternoon, I practiced the pieces myself so I could properly instruct and teach the servants the program during our next meeting. I did this while I ate the finger sandwiches and fresh strawberries my maids had sent up.

By the time dinner rolled around, I was starving again, probably partially from the lack of sleep. I wondered how Maxon was faring. He had probably gotten less sleep than I did, if any at all.

Sure enough, when I walked into the dining hall for dinner, Maxon sat sleepily between his mother and father at the royal table, his chin resting in his hand while his eyes drooped.

The king nudged Maxon rather roughly, and he sat up straighter, widening his eyes.

As I sat down, I waved a waiter over. The waiter smiled at me and winked. I wondered if this particular waiter was one of the performers that would be playing at the Christmas ball with my makeshift choir and orchestra.

I whispered something in his ear while Kriss and Celeste narrowed their eyes at me from across the table. As the waiter walked away with a smile on his face and my eyes locked with Kriss', I idly wondered when we had truly stopped being friends. I suppose it was when she realized she was a worthy competitor.

I looked up at the royal's table as I piled my plate with food. Maxon was staring at me with a confused expression on his face while the king's eyes bore down on me suspiciously.

The waiter returned to the room then, carrying a cup of coffee with a small bar of chocolate on a saucer. He set it down in front of Maxon.

Maxon opened his mouth to protest, but then he realized I had ordered it for him. He thanked the waiter and smiled crookedly at me. He lifted up the cup and toasted me silently before taking a long sip.

Kriss huffed and slouched in her seat, her face turning red with jealousy.

I tried not to smile as I drank my soup from a small spoon.

I turned to say hello to Elise, but the chair next to me was empty. I hadn't realized she was missing until now.

"Where is Elise? Is she sick?" I asked, not to anyone in particular.

Celeste put her glass of champagne down inelegantly, sneering at me. "If you had graced us with your presence before tonight, you would have known that Maxon had come by the Women's Room this afternoon to see how we were doing on our projects for the Christmas ball. And if you were there, you would have also known that Maxon asked to see Elise privately, and that he eliminated her."

I stared at her in shock. "She's gone? We're the last three?" I asked idiotically. A part of my brain was registering that Elise was gone, and the other part realized that in the Selection, the prince always chose his bride from the final three girls.

"Congratulations, America, you can count," Celeste mocked. She glanced at Kriss, who was now staring at me competitively. "And I don't know where either of you get the idea that I am no longer your competition. Keep in mind that I'm still here. And I'm fighting in ways _neither_ of you can." She sat back in her chair confidently, sipping on more champagne.

I looked up at Maxon, who was studying our exchange with curiosity. I knew he couldn't hear, but regardless, he looked anxious. He tugged on his ear quickly.

I hesitated before pulling on mine back, suddenly very tense.

That meant that the next time there was an elimination, one of us would be engaged to Prince Maxon Schreave.


	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you for all the sweet reviews over the past twenty-four hours - you guys are awesome! I'm glad you liked the part with the chocolate. ;)**

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**A.R. Darcangelo**

Chapter 13:

Even though he had tugged his ear, Maxon didn't come see me that night. I stayed up until around midnight, waiting for him to slip through my door. I found myself anxiously opening my eyes every time I heard a creak or whistle of the wind, expecting to see my door opening a crack. But it never did. I also half expected to wake up to him shaking my shoulder, telling me he wanted to go out again tonight.

To my disappointment, I woke again to the sun filtering through my curtains. My maids came bustling through the door shortly after, drawing me a sweet bath that smelled like the garden. Today my maids dressed me in a light pink gown that went to the floor, but it was made of soft cotton so it looked much more like a day dress than an evening gown.

I sauntered down to the dining hall, but when I arrived, no one was there. As a matter of fact, the chairs were turned upside down on top of the tables like they always were after the servants cleaned up a meal, and the smell of sausage and eggs was absent.

I walked down the hall, looking through doors and listening for the sound of laughter. This had to be a joke.

Just as I was about to stomp back up to my room, I heard the tranquil voice of Queen Amberly behind me. "Lady America! I am sorry I missed you. I tried to get the message to all of you before you left your rooms, but you were early to rise today. We'll be having breakfast in the Women's Room. I have a few things I need to discuss with you ladies, and Maxon and his father are already in a meeting."

"Oh, that's quite alright," I responded, smiling warmly at her. "Is Maxon… is he okay?"

The queen's brows drew together and she sighed. "Yes, it's just a simple meeting with some senators. Nothing to worry about." She patted me on the arm and drew me into a hug. "How are you doing, my dear America? I feel as though we have not spoken much lately."

I nodded. "I know it has been scarcely a week, but it has felt like I haven't had a chance to speak with you in forever."

She grinned, glancing up and down the hall before leaning in and dropping her voice to a whisper. "Have you and Maxon had a chance to look at the diary?"

I shook my head. "No, but we are… discussing things. He is seeing that there needs to be some change… I think he is being smart about it, though," I murmured.

She smiled proudly. "I'm so glad to hear that."

"America! Queen Amberly! Isn't it a beautiful morning?" Kriss came skipping around the corner, pretending to be my friend again.

"I haven't been outside yet, but the sun _is_ out after all," Queen Amberly said cheerfully.

"I just took a walk in the gardens, and it was lovely. I think I may ask Maxon if he would like to take another walk later, just so I can admire the flowers again." She batted her eyelashes dreamily.

I swallowed the bit of throw up that came up my throat.

"Ladies, let us go to the Women's Room. Celeste can catch up with us there," Queen Amberly said, putting a hand on each of our shoulders.

As we walked on either side of Queen Amberly, I saw Kriss lean over and glance at me, a competitive gleam in her eye.

She looked up at Amberly. "Queen Amberly, I was thinking of using your wedding colors for the decorations at the Christmas ball. Didn't you and the king get married in December?"

"Yes, our anniversary is actually in just two short days," Queen Amberly said, beaming at Kriss. "I think that's a wonderful idea."

Kriss smirked at me behind Queen Amberly's back.

Well two could play at that game.

I turned to Amberly. "Didn't the king have those white flowers in the garden planted for you for one of your anniversaries? They would look exquisite as centerpieces for the ball, don't you think?"

"Oh, yes! I have never smelled anything so beautiful. They are my favorite," she said to Kriss, whose face turned from sweet to seething as Amberly fixated her eyes back to me.

Kriss gasped as if she remembered something suddenly. "Oh, America, I had an idea of my own for the music at the ball. My favorite singer is Silas – have you heard of him? His voice is just dreamy. He is releasing a new Christmas album this year; I'm sure our guests would love to hear him."

"What a good idea, Kriss," Queen Amberly commented. "He does have quite a nice voice. Have you thought of anyone in particular you wanted to come for the music, America?" she asked, tilting her head at me questioningly.

I smiled proudly. "Oh, yes, but it's a surprise. As a matter of fact, they have already agreed to play."

"Another surprise? Are you sure that's a good idea, America?" Kriss said with an edge in her voice. I knew she was making a jab at me for the incident on the _Report_. I felt the heat in my face rise, and I swore steam was coming out of my ears.

"As a matter of fact, Kriss, I think it is an excellent idea. I can't wait for you all to see it." I grinned up at Amberly. "What is your favorite Christmas song, Queen Amberly? I'll make sure it gets played during the ball."

Queen Amberly clapped her hands together. "Oh, that would be lovely! I love _The_ _Christmas_ _Song_. It's just so beautiful… and calm."

"That's _my_ favorite, too!" I said, enjoying the unpleasant look on Kriss' face. I couldn't even feel guilty I was getting on her nerves. It really was my favorite song.

We turned the corner to the Women's Room. Celeste was there, sipping on some champagne already. Her nose was in a magazine.

"Good morning, Celeste," the queen greeted as we all took a seat.

"Hello, Your Majesty," she responded, flipping her hair over her shoulder, offering her a wide smile.

Servants filed in with plates of food. I immediately dug in as Queen Amberly began to speak.

"I thought we would have breakfast in here this morning. I do have something to discuss with you ladies, but I also know one of you will be my daughter in law soon enough, and I think it is only appropriate that we spend some more time together, as this will be more common when Maxon makes his decision." She sipped her tea delicately.

"What decision?" Celeste said under her breathe. Her nose was so far up in the air with superiority, I was surprised she could breathe at all from the lack of oxygen.

"What was that, dear?" Amberly said politely, though I sensed distaste in her posture and tone.

"I was just asking what you wanted to speak with us about," Celeste replied, her voice syrupy.

"Oh," Queen Amberly answered. "Since Elise went home, we no longer have someone to coordinate the food for the ball. I was hoping to incorporate some of her traditions since she has some heritage in New Asia, but I respect Maxon's decision to let her go sooner rather than later."

"So who is going to set up the menu for the ball now?" I asked around a mouthful of pancakes. As I spoke, I felt a rather large itch on my leg near my ankle. I dug at it with my heel.

"All of you." Queen Amberly smiled behind her cup of tea.

My eyebrows rose. As I did, I felt another itch. I tried to scratch it without being obvious.

Celeste sighed irritably. Queen Amberly ignored her.

"I think it is good for you all to work together one last time – sometimes you have people with very different ideas about how things should work, and it's something you will experience more than once as a queen." She daintily picked up a piece of pineapple and popped it into her mouth.

My eyes met Kriss' for a short moment before they returned to my plate. An itch started behind my ear and I rubbed the spot, trying to avoid scratching so that I wouldn't leave a red mark.

Queen Amberly eyed me curiously, but didn't say anything. She asked us questions through breakfast, and somehow the conversation turned toward children.

"I always wanted a big family, but you don't always get what you wish for," Queen Amberly said, her eyes rising to the ceiling as she recalled some distant memory. "Actually, I found out I was pregnant for the first time during the summer. That was when Clarkson had those pretty white flowers planted in the garden. They didn't fully bloom until after the fall though, just in time for my third anniversary with him."

I smiled at her memory. Sometimes when she spoke of him like that, I could almost see past the abusive and controlling king that he was now. _Almost_.

"How many children would you have had before Maxon, had you carried to full term?" Kriss asked carefully, trying not to be offensive.

The queen seemed to take no offense – her face only revealed resignation. She had probably long ago accepted her inability to carry children. "Two before and one after. It is hard to think about sometimes – but I am so proud of Maxon. I am thankful that he is here, and I got to keep at least one." She smiled at us.

"The babies… were they stillborn?" Kriss asked, wondering aloud what the rest of us were probably thinking. How far had she gotten until the babies just seemed to give up on life?

"The first one… was around Christmas actually. I was about six months along. The other two were when I was about four months… I almost lost Maxon," she revealed.

"You did?" I asked in surprise, piping up for the first time. Suddenly my chest started to itch quite horribly where the hem of my dress met my skin. I tried to adjust it. It made it worse.

"Yes," Amberly confided. "I was eight months along, and I had already had a couple of scares. I was on bed rest. My sister Adele came and stayed with me after they thought I was going into labor prematurely. She wouldn't let anyone cook for me – she fed me all my meals and stayed with me day and night. She was a great help during that time. Without her, I might have lost him."

I shivered at the thought. And then a spot right in the middle of my back began to itch. I rubbed my back against the loveseat, trying to be inconspicuous. I took a deep breath and tried not to think about the itch. It seemed to get larger with each breath.

"America, are you alright? You look a little green," the queen said, concerned.

"Yes, I'm fine," I assured her as my eyes watered while the itch grew to be almost unbearable.

Kriss eyed me warily, scooting over a few inches.

Celeste glared at me. Suddenly her eyes grew wide and horrified. "_Ew_! Look, she's infected!"

I glanced down at my chest, which from what I could see was red and splotchy just as my neck had been yesterday. My arms weren't as bad, but they were starting to redden and pucker. They reminded me of the faded scars on Maxon's back.

Queen Amberly stood up and waved a servant over. "Was there anything on the menu today that Miss America is allergic to?"

"No, Your Majesty," the servant said, bowing nervously.

"I'm not allergic to anything," I clarified, twisting my arm as I tried to reach the itchy spot on my back. Since the cat was out of the bag, I might as well try to get the itch.

"They're just hives," Kriss told Celeste, who was cowering away from me in disgust.

"They're what?" I said, standing up as if it would help me stretch my arm toward the middle of my back.

"Come, America, we have to get you to the hospital wing," Queen Amberly said, rushing to my side.

She and a guard who had watched the incident with curiosity escorted me to the hospital wing. When the doctor saw me, he could hardly suppress his laughter.

"You think this is funny, do you?" I said, scratching my hands, switching every few seconds depending on which hand itched more.

"Stop scratching yourself, you're going to make it worse," the doctor ordered.

I huffed, sitting on my hands.

"Now, you say you aren't allergic to anything? No grains, or gluten?" he inquired, holding a clipboard with my medical file attached to it.

"No," I said, gritting my teeth against an itch that was building on the bottom of my foot.

"Have you used any new bathing products lately?" he asked.

"Well… yes and no. I think I have been using the same stuff since I got here." Then I remembered my sweet smelling bath this morning. It had smelled much stronger than my normal lavender and vanilla baths. "Except this morning. I think I my maids may have used a different bubble bath today."

The doctor told a guard to call for my maids. Queen Amberly waited by my side, patting my unexposed skin. I considered asking her to scratch the patch of skin on my back that felt like a prickly cactus.

When my maids arrived, they flurried over to me, worried. "Oh, miss, what happened?" Anne said, looking at my blemished skin.

"That's what we were trying to figure out," the doctor said. "Did you use something different in Lady America's bath this morning? Perhaps something she may be allergic to?"

Anne and Mary shook their heads, confused. Lucy's face, however, had reddened considerably.

"Lucy?" I asked, looking into her stricken face.

Lucy's face crumbled. "Oh, miss! I am so sorry! When I was making your bed yesterday, I found that lovely white flower and although it was a little rumpled, I didn't want it to go to waste, so I soaked it in water yesterday and used it in your bath this morning for perfume – I had no idea you were so allergic! I am so sorry!" she sobbed, covering her face with her hands.

"Lucy, it's alright," I said, trying to console her, taking my hands out from under my thighs. I decided to put them back under them though, because I was too tempted to itch with them out in the open. "I didn't know I was allergic either – it's not your fault. If you had told me what you were doing, I would have told you to go for it. Sounds smart to me." I smiled at her. Her sobs calmed a little. Queen Amberly took her hand and patted it comfortingly.

"Could one of you ladies bring me another flower so I can take a look at it?" the doctor asked, writing something on his clipboard.

While Mary went to go pick another flower, the doctor set me up in bed, leaving my legs and arms uncovered until he knew which anti-itch cream and salve to use.

When Mary came back with the flower, Amberly clapped her hands together. "Oh, those are the ones Clarkson had planted for me. How unfortunate that you are allergic, America. It looks like we won't be able to use them as centerpieces after all."

"Actually," the doctor began, "America is having the same reaction anyone would. These are white oleanders. They are very poisonous. The sap and nectar causes hives if externally touched, and if they are ingested, they have been known to cause death." He looked me in the eye. "These grow wild in the province that I am from. Actually, quite sadly, I heard rumors growing up that women who were sevens or eights that could not afford to have another child would ingest small amounts of the oleander to force a miscarriage if they got pregnant. If taken in small enough amounts, it can cause health problems, inducing early labor, but it won't kill you."

My face grew from initial shock to horror. I turned to look at Queen Amberly, who must have realized the same thing I had, but I was too late. I saw the end of her skirt swish out the door and heard a quiet sob before she disappeared.

I turned back to the doctor with tear filled eyes.

The doctor looked perplexed at Amberly's reaction. "What did I say?"

I shook my head, eyeing the offending flower with hatred for the first time.


	14. Chapter 14

**Here is Chapter 14 - it's a fluffy, Maxerica-filled, filler chapter. Since there was no Maxerica last chapter, I thought it was a good way to start up the next part of the story. How else do you transition to a new part of your story? ;)**

**Big thank-yous to prnamber3909, 101, lilythemermaid, Athenachild101, EileenAbbey, dakotamo, FandomsAreMyLife4Ever, magicdance 123, Guest mih, theselectionqueen, Dhenn618, AmberRena, Theoneamerica, Maxerica4Life, PokemonLuver151, Abbie loves reading, and IChangedForYou - you guys took the time to review, and I truly appreciate that so much! Thank you to all who favorited and followed as well. You guys are the best.**

**A.R. Darcangelo**

**P.S. Guest mih had a great question - the splotch on America's neck from chapter 12 was the beginning of hives because the flower had been in her bed while she was sleeping, but it was only central to the location where the flower was. White Oleander sap is what is most poisonous - and yes, Anne totally thought America had a hickey on her neck. Good insight, Guest mih!**

Chapter 14:

All day long I lay in the hospital wing while a nurse repeatedly covered me in anti-itch cream and salve. By the time dinner rolled around, I was almost completely hive free. The only marks left over were from where I had scratched myself – red, puckered lines that looked like Maxon's scars. Luckily, mine would probably go away within a few days.

The _Report_ broadcasted tonight, and thankfully, I was excused from attending. I watched on a small television screen from across the room as Maxon and the other girls spoke with Gavril on a little loveseat. Celeste had her hands all over Maxon, and I had to suppress throwing up when he didn't really stop her. However, I could tell by his facial expression he was rather embarrassed by her public displays of affection, and I tried to imagine his discomfort had a lot more to do with the fact that he had to sit in the same room with her, much less on the same loveseat.

When Kriss had her turn, Maxon had easily put his arm around her and she leaned into him – albeit a little conservatively – but I felt my heart drop into my stomach at the sight. It hurt that he was just as comfortable with her as he was with me. I knew in the back of my head that he was trying hard to make a real connection with her just in case things didn't work out with me, but what if he decided that connection was _more_ than whatever he and I had? I couldn't swallow that thought.

I had hoped he would come after the _Report_, but Maxon hadn't visited me yet. I was sure he must've heard what had happened to me, but perhaps the king was keeping him away. Truly, that man was getting really irritating.

The queen hadn't come back either, although I knew there was a good reason why she hadn't. I wondered where she had gone – she was missing on the _Report_ tonight.

I couldn't believe the king had poisoned her time and time again with white oleander, forcing her to lose child after child. I couldn't comprehend the pain and betrayal she must be experiencing. Just a little over a week ago, she found out King Clarkson had been caning Maxon since he was about six years old. For years she assumed it was the room he used for servants who were caught stealing.

I deliberated going to Maxon's room to see him. If he hadn't already spoken with his mother today, I knew it was something he needed to know. Who knows what would happen if King Clarkson found out she knew what he had been doing. I shuddered fearfully.

The nurse who had been applying my salve bustled around the corner with a syringe full of a light pink liquid.

"Here you are, dear," she said in a sing-song voice, inserting the medication into the tube that was attached to my I.V. "This will keep the swelling down over night, and you should be ready to leave by tomorrow morning."

"Thanks," I said, suddenly feeling groggy. As soon as the medicine drained through my tube, she unhooked my I.V., and to my relief, removed the needle from my left hand.

"It will make you a bit sleepy," she quipped, noticing my eyelids drooping. "Sweet dreams, Lady America. Call if you need anything." She pulled the curtain around my bed. The lights turned off so only starlight was coming in through the windows. Unlike the night Maxon and I had snuck out of the palace, the moon was just a sliver in the sky.

I fought sleep for a while, but finally the medicine sucked me under. It was a strange feeling as I dreamt – I knew I was dreaming, but I didn't want to wake up because of the vivid colors and images I saw behind my eyelids. Sometime during the night, I realized that I felt very warm down the back length of my body. I was still asleep, I knew, but a part of my brain knew that there was something significant behind my dreaming.

The warmth was not uncomfortable – on the contrary, I was _very_ cozy. I was dreaming that I was swimming. I had never seen the ocean, but my dream revealed it to be very warm. The waves were soft against my skin – softer than I would have expected – and as I started to rise out of the water, it rolled down my skin like silk.

I felt myself beginning to wake, but I fought it relentlessly. I tried to keep the image of the warm sand under my feet alive, and the hot sun baking my skin as the slightly cooler waves lapped at my sides and back.

I felt soft lips at the nape of my neck. A gentle hand lay lightly on my waist, running slowly up and down from hip to waist to shoulder and back. My eyes fluttered open and my heart began beating erratically. Out of the corner of my eye, in the low light of the room, I saw untidy blonde hair falling into my face.

Maxon's soft hair tickled my cheek as he continued to kiss my neck, eager now that I was awake. His body spooned mine from behind on the little bed. I attempted to keep my breathing even as my body tried to shake off medicine and sleep so I could concentrate on what was happening.

His hand stopped at my waist, and he let his fingers grasp me there, holding me more tightly. His lips began to trail under my jaw, creating a line of fire.

I took a ragged breath. I felt him smile against my jaw. His hand reached over to grab one of mine, and he pulled so I rolled over onto my back.

I looked up at him sleepily. He smiled happily at me as his fingers began to trace my face. He brushed my cheekbones, then over my eyebrows and nose, and finally he lingered on my lips. His eyes left mine as he drew patterns across them that weren't there.

His proximity was making me all hot. My heart was beating entirely too fast, and I was sure he knew it because of how close he was. One corner of his mouth lifted as he saw the look in my own eyes, betraying me.

He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to mine, not moving his lips, just letting them rest on mine firmly. I eagerly snaked my hand up his neck, braiding my fingers into his soft locks. He responded immediately, knotting his fingers back into my fiery hair, kissing me more earnestly.

His heart thudded against mine, and our legs tangled together on the gurney. I never wanted to stop. The part of me that was all reason and logic was still asleep, so I couldn't care that there was something I needed to tell him, or that I was still recovering from hives, or that I was hurt that he hadn't come to see me all day. I just knew that he was here now, and I wanted to keep kissing him until we were too tired to go on.

Maxon must have felt the same way. He let one of his hands untangle from my hair. He brought it to rest low on my hip, and then he moved it over my thigh and let it rest behind my knee. I felt his hand shaking slightly, like he was nervous. My lips stilled for a moment, but he pressed his lips to mine more forcefully than before, and I began kissing him back urgently.

His fingers began to curl under my knee, and then so quickly I couldn't have stopped it, he brought my leg up so it was hooked over his hip. I fastened my leg there as his hand stayed gripped to my lower thigh.

His lips left mine and he started to kiss down my cheek with urgency. He whispered my name.

With what little room was left between us, I pushed on his shoulder and moved him to his back. I hovered above him, my left leg still draped over his hip. He stared at me, both confounded at my rebuff and enthralled with our intimacy, before I reached down to hold his face in my hands and kiss him tenderly. His hands held me at my waist and my body lay relaxed and stretched out over his.

I was definitely awake now, in more ways than one. My body buzzed with the electricity between us. As Maxon reached up to stroke my face as we kissed, I started to remember the events of today – or yesterday, if I had been asleep long enough. I remembered Queen Amberly, and my lips slowed.

Maxon tried to get the kiss going again, but I pulled back so there was room between us. He stretched up to bond our lips, but I put my fingers to his mouth. His hand circled my wrist and he began kissing my calloused fingers, one by one, his eyes partially closed.

My heart stuttered. I remembered when he told me once that my callouses were beautiful – they were proof that the music he had heard me play in the past was real. It thrilled me that something that represented my low caste was gorgeous to him.

I shook my head, trying to get the dreamy, roused state I was in to clear so I could think.

When Maxon was finished kissing the tiny tips of my fingers, he gazed back into my eyes.

"Hi," he whispered, still holding my hand in his.

"Hi," I breathed. I had the urge to kiss him again, but I fought it.

Maxon swallowed. "How are you, love?"

"Good," I answered. A bolt of electricity shot through me at the endearment.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked, studying my scarred hands.

"Yes. I think all the hives are gone now," I said, glancing at my now clear arms, just to make sure they were.

He nodded. "I didn't hear about it until this afternoon. Kriss told me you'd had an allergic reaction. I tried to come see you, but I ran into my father on the way up here. He needed me to come with him to his office to call my mother's sister. She left this afternoon."

I stiffened. "Wait, your mother, or your mother's sister?"

"My mother left. We weren't sure until just before the _Report_, but she went to go see her sister – Adele. I know you've met her before." He looked at my face for confirmation. "Apparently, she is sick, so my mother went to help her get well. I guess no one else was able to. My father wasn't too happy."

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. "Are you – I mean, did he – "

Maxon reached up and quickly kissed me. "No, love, I'm fine. Nothing happened."

I sighed in relief. "Okay. I'm glad you're okay. Did you have a chance to talk to your mother before she left?" I inquired.

He shook his head. "No. She answered the phone when I called, but she wasn't answering my father's calls. I called from a private phone after I left my father's office. I had wondered if she just didn't want to speak with him. A few days ago…we talked about… you know, what my father does to me sometimes. We had been kind of avoiding talking about it, but I was left alone in a room with her the other day. It wasn't really planned. And she started crying."

"Oh, Maxon," I said, wrapping my arms around his neck and laying my head on his chest. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," he replied, letting his cheek rest on my hair. He began to stroke my back.

"Has she spoken to your father the past few days?"

"Yes. I told her she needed to just think of the good things he's done… He hasn't always been so terrible. He has a temper, and as I've grown older, more controlling and less compassionate. The compassionate side of him I haven't seen for a long time. But I knew my mother could remember those things. I told her to focus on those, and that I could take care of myself." He took a deep breath. "I thought she was doing so well with that, especially since their anniversary is coming up… But now I'm not so sure…"

I wasn't sure if Adele was really sick, but I wondered why she had let Maxon stay behind. Maybe she knew that if she took him, she was endangering Kriss, Celeste and I. She couldn't risk leaving us here alone with the king. He probably would have figured it out – I mean, how many terrible things had he done that she could have found out about, something that was enough to make her leave with Maxon?

Maxon stared at me. His face was curious. "What are you thinking about?" he whispered.

For the first time, I questioned whether or not I should tell him what had happened to the brothers and sisters he'd always wanted. Was it my place to tell him that? Was there a reason Queen Amberly hadn't? Was there something bigger I didn't know about? I decided that it would have to wait – until I was sure or until it was absolutely imperative that I tell Maxon, he wouldn't find out from me.

I shook my head. "Nothing. I just hope she's okay."

He nodded. "She will be. I am sure she is just overwhelmed."

"Yeah, that's probably it," I agreed. She was _very_ overwhelmed.

Maxon shifted a little under me. I smiled.

"So," he began, starting a new subject. "Are you really feeling much better?"

"Yes," I confirmed. I began to play with his messy hair.

He glanced down the expanse of the hospital wing. "Would you like to go on another field trip?"

I grinned. "Tonight? Right now?"

"Mmhmm," he said, tucking a stray hair behind my ear. "I have to make a few calls first, but I think I can manage to get something together."

"Okay," I said. I got up on my knees, now straddling him. He held my waist and lifted me off of him to set me down on the floor. He stood up, looking gorgeous with his mussed hair and rumpled clothing.

I reached out and took his hand. "Am I allowed to though? Won't I get in trouble with the doctor?"

Maxon's smile turned mischievous. "The only person that can trump the doctor's orders is the prince. And I say you're free to go."

I bit my lip in an effort to hide my smile. He pulled on my hand, and we tiptoed out of the hospital wing.

**Please review, favorite, and follow!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Thank you all for the super sweet reviews! This chapter is extra long and extra romantic for all you Maxerica lovers! 21 days until The One comes out! Squee!**

**Let me know what you all think of this chapter and where the story is going! I love to hear your feedback!**

**A.R. Darcangelo**

Chapter 15:

Maxon and I walked hand in hand behind Carter, following the low flashlight he held in his hand. It was considerably darker out tonight because of the lack of moonlight, but I couldn't help but stare up at the sky and admire the twinkling stars that covered the blackened sky.

Maxon had led me to his room where he'd made a few calls – one to Carter and one to someone I didn't know. It was a little past midnight when we got to Carter and Marlee's home, much earlier than I thought it was. Marlee and I didn't have much time to visit, but she gave me a worn pair of jeans and an unremarkable brown sweater to borrow. I gave her my pink dress to have – she insisted that she couldn't take it, but I told her my maids never dressed me in something twice, so it would go to waste unless she did. It was only then that she took it, smiling happily as she held the dress to her chest. She had always looked infinitely more beautiful in them than I did.

When Maxon, Carter and I walked into the province, Maxon took the lead, still holding my hand. Tonight he didn't take me behind an alleyway to meet with strangers – sevens and eights that had no place to live. He walked with purpose, seemingly knowing which direction he wanted to take.

We came upon a door about fifteen minutes into our walk that looked like the home of a three or a four. The roof was put together, no windows were boarded up or broken, and there was even a doorbell.

Maxon turned to me. "Do you want to ring the doorbell?"

I stared at him incredulously. "Why would I do that? Whose house is this?"

One corner of his mouth lifted and he rang the doorbell. He stepped aside so I was standing slightly in front of him.

I heard a deadbolt slide back and click. The door opened a few inches, giving the person just enough room to stick their head out. Except that this person would never do such a thing. She was much too proper to do that.

"Silvia!" I yelled, rushing forward to hug her.

Silvia stood there for a moment, her arms out and her eyes wide, until she decided that decorum wasn't going anywhere special in this case. She wrapped her thin arms around my shoulders and hugged me tighter. "Lady America. I see not much has changed." She pulled back and smiled teasingly at me.

"Not a bit," I promised. I blinked the tears out of my eyes.

I glanced back at Maxon who was smiling happily. He always went to such great lengths to ensure my own happiness – first with Marlee, and now with Silvia.

Gosh, I loved him so much.

Silvia invited us in, taking us into the living room. Carter stayed by the door, looking through the windows.

As Maxon and I walked into the living room, I was surprised to see a group of people seated anywhere there was a place to sit – the small couch, the floor, the counters across from us in the kitchen. I spotted the boy and girl we had met a few nights ago there in the kitchen. I smiled and waved at them.

Maxon looked slightly nervous, but he didn't look surprised. He saw me gazing questioningly up at him. He leaned down to whisper in my ear. "I decided that little meetings like this might be okay… if we planned them last second. I sent a letter out to Silvia the day after we first visited the province at night. She agreed to help us set up the meetings, and of course the family she is staying with was eager to help. She expected me to call sometime this week."

I looked up at him in awe. "That's brilliant. If it's not planned in advance, it lowers the chances of a rebel finding out."

"Exactly," he said. He glanced over at Carter. Carter acknowledged him with a nod. His eyes locked with mine temporarily. I realized in that small exchange that Carter was not here for me and Maxon – he was here _exclusively_ for me. He and Maxon had an understanding that if something was to happen, he was to protect _me_ and help _me_ get away. Which in bad circumstances might mean leaving Maxon behind.

I reflexively gripped Maxon's hand harder. He squeezed back, oblivious to my discomfort and worry.

Maxon cleared his throat, unnecessary because we already had everyone's attention the second we walked in the room. I let go of his hand and walked to the kitchen to sit with Liz, the girl we had met in the alleyway with her boyfriend, edging in front a little so that I could make a beeline for Maxon if anything happened.

"Hello," Maxon said without giving away his anxiety. I was probably the only one who knew that the way he twisted his hands in front of him was a sign of worry. "Thank you all for coming – especially on such late notice. I trust that you are all here because you want some answers. Maybe some of you have questions. I just want to start by saying that I am doing this because I want to know what needs to change. During the Selection, it's been brought to my attention that things aren't exactly the way they should be in the provinces, especially among some of the lowest castes. Things I didn't realize… I am sorry for that."

He swallowed hard, looking around the room. "I didn't realize some of you go without electricity. Or one meal a day. Or that you had to choose between schooling your children and working so you could make ends meet."

I glanced around the room. Most people looked like fours or fives, with a few exceptions, but everyone hung on every word. I wonder how much Silvia, or even Liz and her boyfriend had revealed about the prince. It was clear they were skeptical, but that in some way, their opinions had been slightly swayed before we had even arrived. All eyes were glued on Maxon.

"I would like to start with questions. Complaints, even. I can't help you unless I know. I know it is unacceptable for me to even have to answer these types of questions – but if I am going to be king someday, I have to start somewhere. And I can't do that inside the walls of a palace that is constantly being threatened." Maxon looked around the room, requesting the people to speak. It seemed that the twenty or so people huddled in both rooms weren't going to speak up until a young girl who looked skinny and ragged – probably a six or seven and about my age – raised her hand.

"Yes," Maxon said, pointing her out as he invited her to speak.

She cleared her throat. "Your Majesty, I ain't been to school in seven years – how about us people that need to go to school? I saw on the T.V. that Kriss said there should be a program for us kids to go to school. And adults who need it, too. Will that happen?"

I felt a little uncomfortable that Kriss had been mentioned, but I couldn't deny her idea for education reformation was a good one.

Maxon smiled. "Yes, I have already begun making plans with some of our education directors. We have been mostly communicating over the phone, but we are trying to build a model based on Lady Kriss' idea that will allow anyone to go to school for free. I think an educated country will automatically increase our country's stability."

A man who looked to be in his thirties cleared his throat loudly. "But what good is an education if we ain't able to move up without money? Our caste determines our work." I could tell from his lack of salutation that he probably already didn't like the royal family much.

Maxon nodded. "I understand that is a problem. Lady America mentioned a few weeks ago on the _Report_ that by adding a few of these programs, like education, it would be possible to move forward with a system that allows you to change your occupation. That is something that is harder to change because it is such a fundamental part of our system. But I do acknowledge that it needs to be changed."

Maxon's voice changed. It turned from regal to sympathetic. "I promise you that it is something I think about every day… I know how that feels to an extent. I may live comfortably, but I am the prince – the only prince. I – I don't have a choice. I have to be king. Even if I don't want it. The more I learn about my people and the country, the more that I want it, but it's a big job. And I assure you I am going to do everything I can to make things right since that's the life I've been given."

The man in his thirties stared at Maxon in shock. Most of the room mirrored his expression. I was sure most people had never looked at it that way – I know before I met Maxon, I hadn't either.

Over the course of the next two hours Maxon spoke with the people. A few more people trickled in with a careful watch from Carter, and by the end of it, when everyone was yawning and exhausted, including me and Maxon, the man in his thirties who had perhaps looked the most skeptical of all was shaking Maxon's hand, thanking him for taking the time to come speak.

I knew that it would be the talk of the town tomorrow. Things in Carolina spread fast – I just hoped the king wouldn't get wind of it. It may be the last time we could do something like this. If word spread like fire, more people than we cared to know would find out Maxon was coming outside the palace to talk to people on a private and mostly unprotected basis.

As Maxon and I walked back to the palace at about three in the morning with Carter at our heels, I cuddled up to him, circling my arms around his waist as he circled his arms around my shoulders. His cheek rested on the top of my head, his breath blowing little hairs over my forehead. It was a little chilly tonight, but for the most part it was comfortable. When we were close to the palace, Maxon lifted his head and whispered something to Carter.

Maxon stopped me, letting Carter walk in front of us. We didn't follow.

"What are we doing?" I asked, looking up at Maxon.

He kissed the tip of my nose. "I found something the other day that I want to show you."

"When did you have time to find something out here?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He chuckled softly. "I came out for an hour or so with Carter last night – well, now it was about two nights ago. We were just scourging the area a bit for any rebels… or hideouts. He checked once for me before, but I wanted to make sure just in case. I didn't want to risk bringing you out here if there are rebels lurking outside of the palace."

My heart healed a little from when he didn't come visit me that one night. Every night he didn't come I felt his absence. It hit me harder and harder every time.

"Come on," he said, tugging me along in his arms.

We walked past the barbed wire fence surrounding the palace, but this time on the other side. Another thin thicket of trees lay ahead of us. We walked through, Maxon holding the little flashlight that Carter had been holding earlier. He must've handed it off to him when he headed back to the palace.

Soon, we entered an even thinner thicket of trees, where something shiny and red reflected off the flashlight.

I squinted my eyes at the glare while Maxon flicked off the flashlight. Surprisingly, in the thinner thicket of trees, the stars seemed to shine brighter, casting a small glow over the tiny opening in front of us.

Maxon grinned charmingly at me. In front of us was a car – a very old car. It was a shiny, cherry red color with a convertible top. I had never actually seen one before – I had heard twos and threes with a lot of money had them. They drove around with nothing covering their heads, letting the wind whip through their hair. I had imagined driving in one several times, never thinking I would have the chance.

"Are we driving it?" I asked, excited.

Maxon's smile faltered a bit. "Er, no. It doesn't run. I hope I can somehow sneak it in the auto shop and get it fixed up, but in the meantime, I think it's a perfect spot to look at the stars, don't you?"

A slow smile spread across my face as he took my hand, leading me to the car.

"It's a 1967 Ford Mustang," Maxon commented. "It has a v8 powered eng –"

"I have no idea what that means," I interrupted.

Maxon rolled his eyes at me. "I wasn't finished, darling. I had no idea what it was either until I went to the library and looked for a book on cars, something Gregory Illéa thought was too much of a commonplace item apparently. Which is why the only people who can afford to buy them are well off threes, twos, and… well, me." He smiled impishly. "It's nearly two-hundred years old. But it looks as though it was refurbished perhaps in the last twenty years. It wouldn't be holding together as well as it is otherwise."

He tugged on the door handle of the driver's side door. The door squeaked slightly as he pulled it open. "Ladies first," he said, bowing as he held it open, offering his other hand to help me as I stepped inside.

I slide inside, moving over on the bench seat to give him room. I ran my hand over the beige leather, which was cracked from the sun in different places.

Maxon shut the door behind him and leaned over to feel for a button I couldn't see. When he found it, the back of the seat slowly rolled back until it stopped so we were sitting at an angle, just enough so we could look at the stars without bending our necks upward.

He immediately put his arm behind my head, pulling me close. I swung my legs over his lap, nestling into his chest.

"This is surprisingly cobweb free for a car that has been sitting here for nearly twenty years," I commented.

Maxon grinned coyly. "I had Carter clean it this afternoon. I have been giving him personal jobs, so he's mostly excused from working in the guard's quarters – he usually cleans their rooms and shines the shoes… all that stuff. It gives him more time to be with Marlee."

"You're sweet," I whispered.

Maxon shrugged. "Well with a baby on the way, I can understand why he – "

I shot up out of his arms, startling him. "_What_? Marlee is _pregnant_?!"

"Shhh," Maxon hushed me, pulling me down to hold me again. He glanced around the car to make sure we were still alone. "Sorry, I thought you knew. I am sure she wanted to surprise you. Act surprised when she tells you."

I swatted playfully at him. "You ruined the surprise," I whined.

"Sorry," he apologized again. He smiled though, so I could tell he thought the whole situation was humorous.

"Maxon Schreave, you think you are _so_ funny. But you know what? You are the most –" He stopped my ranting as he took my face in his hands and kissed me hard. I felt his smile under my mouth.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him back, feeling that strong devotion and affection called love begin to swell in my heart. The feeling almost hurt so much that I thought I may burst.

More than anything in that moment, I wanted to tell him. I felt like everyone else knew – and although I think he may have known it already, he had never heard me say the words. I couldn't contain it for another second.

I gently pulled away, my hands still holding his face while his arms held me so close that his torso was molded to mine. He gazed into my eyes, his expression making me heady. His breathing was torn and ragged.

"Maxon," I whispered. I felt his heart thud unevenly next to mine. "I… I love you."

His heart began beating wildly. Mine responded in kind as he continued to look at my face. It took me a moment to realize his eyes had turned glassy.

He drew me close again, kissing me passionately for a moment. Both his cheeks and mine were damp when we pulled back for air.

He nodded then, brushing hair away from my face. "I love you… I love you so much." His voice cracked on the last word.

I jerked myself to him, kissing him again. He responded just as eagerly, and it felt like a lifetime before we pulled away from each other to breathe.

For a long while we looked up at the stars, my head on his chest as he held me, kissing my eyelids, my cheeks, and the tips of my fingers every so often. For the first time, I felt like that bond of trust that we had lost was finally sealed and preserved. We didn't move much while we lay there, and if we did, we stayed close, afraid the perfection of the moment would break if we let go of one another.

When the stars started to disappear as the morning turned gray, Maxon shifted and pulled me up with him. We left the car, now more visible, and I had to admit it was beautiful. Maxon promised if it was safe we would come back.

We slowly strolled back to the palace, wanting to prolong our time before we would have to leave each other. My arms remained around his waist and one of his encircled my shoulders as we walked through the warehouse full of food, the servant's quarters, and then up the stairs to the princess' suite.

Maxon stopped there, looking down at me.

"America…" he began. He looked like he was trying to decide something. I stayed silent, still content just to be in his arms for a moment longer. "I wanted it to be a surprise, but I think I can live with showing it to you now."

"Show me what?" I asked, already knowing what he was going to say, but still unbelieving all at the same time.

He silently opened the door to the next room, not bothering to cover my eyes this time. He padded over to the thick curtains and pulled them back, lighting up the room.

It wasn't completely finished, but what I did see immediately brought tears to my eyes. The bed in front of me had a stack of royal blue blankets on top of the mattress, ready to be made, and the walls behind it were a powder blue color, rising in an ombré effect, getting darker until it matched the royal blue color of the blankets on the ceiling. The furniture was covered in plastic still, but it was a dark mahogany color to match the bed frame. In the corner were a grand piano and a violin, both in pristine condition. Of everything in the room, I knew that those two things alone meant it was for me.

I realized for the first time that he had meant what he said the night we had dinner in his bedroom. He _didn't_ expect me to disappoint him – even though he may have had a hard time trusting me enough to tell me some things, he still trusted and loved me enough to plan for me to stay. Even on the days where he spent time with Kriss, or couldn't see me because his father wouldn't allow him to… I was always his choice.

Maxon held me as I cried into his chest, mumbling about how I didn't know how one of the happiest days of my life could be on a day that I had already cried so much. I felt him laugh at that. He stroked my back as my sobs slowed, rocking me slightly.

When I had composed myself enough to look at him without his form being blurred, I reached up to touch his face. "I thought I had ruined everything," I admitted, revealing how scared I was that he wouldn't choose me.

He shook his head vehemently. "I can't… America, I know who I don't want to live without," he whispered.

I understood exactly what he meant. A part of me would always care for Aspen, and I wanted him in my life, even if that meant we were only distant friends… But I knew if I ever had to leave Maxon, I would never stop loving him. A part of my heart would always belong to him, no matter how much time and space was between us. And I would never be able to fully give my heart to someone else for that reason. Knowing that scared me.

He leaned his forehead against mine, closing his eyes. "I love you," he breathed.

"I love you more."

"Never," he replied, smiling.

I hugged him close as I hid my smile in his chest.

I could've stayed there forever.

**Please review, favorite, and follow!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Thanks for being so patient! There were issues with uploading documents to the site, so I apologize for the delay! I have at least two chapters ready to go. Stay tuned, as I'll be posting the next chapter no later than tomorrow evening. **

**Ilona18 asked me if I could post the Q&A that I did with Kiera Cass via twitter a couple weeks ago. There were other readers and fans there of course, but she answered a few of my questions, so I am posting them here for all to see!**

**Q: Will there be anymore teasers for The One?**

**A: YES. Lots more teasers to come, including the book trailer (released this last Thursday I believe.)**

**Q: How long did it take you to publish The Selection?**

**A: From the time I thought up the idea in my head to the time it was published, it took four years. **

**Q: Will you be coming through Los Angeles on tour?**

**A: Yes, I don't have the date right off the top of my head. (I checked and she will be at The Grove on May 20th at Barnes and Noble. If y'all live in Los Angeles, you may see me there!)**

**Q: Has any of the fanfiction you've read for The One been close to the plotline you came up with for the real book?**

**A: I don't want to know if people have guessed what's happened. The only fanfic I've read had a storyline that went like this: Maxon thought America was tugging her ear, but really a bee was stinging her ear and so when he asked her why she tugged her ear she got all offended. I thought it was pretty funny. **

**That last one Kiera laughed pretty hard at, so if that was you, I need to know your pen name so I can read your funny fanfiction!**

**Happy Reading!**

**A.R. Darcangelo**

Chapter 16:

Breakfast was a rather eventful occasion.

I had almost fallen asleep in my strawberry oatmeal for the third time when Kriss kicked me from under the table. My eyes snapped open. I couldn't even feel properly mad at her for the now throbbing bump on my right shin because I was so exhausted.

The only thing keeping me remotely awake was the dreamy stares I was getting from Maxon. Every time I looked up, he was gazing at me fondly, a goofy grin on his face. I caught Kriss glancing back and forth between Maxon and me, blushing furiously as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

I finally felt like nothing was standing in the way of us being together – not another girl, not the king, not my impulsiveness – everything felt so perfect.

The only person in the room souring my mood was Celeste, who was highly aggravated at her maids for painting her nails the wrong shade of red. I made a mental note to have Lucy tell the servants to meet me in the music room later this afternoon, which included her maids. I had plans for Celeste Newsome.

"So, America, what was it you were allergic to?" Kriss asked politely. It was obvious she was trying to keep my eyes off Maxon's.

"Oh, there is a flower out in the garden that is poisonous. One of my maids had soaked it in water and put it in my bath for perfume, and it caused hives." I shrugged, not wanting to make it seem as though I was angry at Lucy for her mistake.

"Oh, no! Which one?" Kriss asked, looking genuinely interested.

I blushed. "Oh, it's white oleander. They are the big ones that the king planted for the queen… You may want to skip those as center pieces for the Christmas ball."

Kriss' eyes widened. "I just ordered those yesterday!" She huffed and dropped her hand into her palm, clearly distressed.

Celeste narrowed her eyes at me, blame in her expression.

"Sorry," I mumbled. It had actually been my suggestion to use the white oleanders. At least I had the good grace to look ashamed about it.

I was the first one to leave the dining hall after breakfast. I was eager to go to bed for a couple hours before meeting with some of the servants. I also decided to have Anne and some of the others who wanted to sing join me today as well. We only had two weeks left to practice for the ball, and who knows how long it had been since most of the servants had had time to practice.

After calling for Lucy and giving her directions for today's practice session, I curled up in my day dress on top of my comforter and closed my eyes, willing my mind to shut off for the next couple of hours. As my head grew heavy and weak, images of my rendezvous with Maxon filled the darkness behind my eyelids. I relaxed into sleep, a small smile forming on my lips.

* * *

I woke to a crisp knock at my door. It may have been the third or fourth time, but my body was still heavy with sleep. I dragged my legs over the side of the bed as the next three quick raps sounded.

"Coming," I slurred. I smoothed my hands over my hair once before I opened the door.

My eyes blinked open. "Celeste? What are you doing here?"

Celeste was leaning against my doorframe, her long red nails tapping the wood in a staccato rhythm. "Look who the cat dragged in," she sneered, looking me up and down disapprovingly.

"Are you going to insult me all afternoon, or can we skip all that today and get straight to the point?" I said, my voice growing irritated.

She sniffed delicately before pushing past me into my room. "I suppose we can just get straight to the point." She turned around, her arms folded in front of her. "America, I know you are jealous – I mean, I _am_ naturally very attractive, the prettiest girl to make it into the Selection. And let's face it: you aren't very pretty."

She stepped forward, picking up some hair off my shoulder with her thumb and forefinger. "Your hair is an ugly shade of red, almost orange really. You have freckles, and you aren't very well endowed." She glanced at my chest before refocusing her eyes on my face. I just stared at her, careful to keep my expression blank.

"I thought you were done insulting me. Was that the point you wanted to make?" I said drably.

"No," she said, her nostrils flaring. "I don't appreciate you making deals with my maids, America. I heard them talking about you when I got back to my room today. Since when have you spent time with my maids? Sabotaging or stealing from another girl is immediate grounds for elimination. I think I should go tell Prince Maxon." She started to strut to the door.

"Okay, have fun," I said, closing the door behind her.

She spun around, slamming her palm against my door to keep me from closing it. "Oh, you don't care, do you? I think Maxon will."

I shook my head. "Everyone knows I love my maids. I wouldn't trade them for anything or anyone – I took them into the royal safe room during a rebel attack once, if you remember correctly."

Her eyes lit up as she recalled the incident. She frowned and folded her arms in front of her chest again. "I know you're up to something, America. And I'm going to find out what it is. And when I'm finished with you, Maxon will regret the day he asked you to stay. You got that?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

That little remark pushed her over the edge. She stomped away furiously, muttering to herself.

Before it was too late, I rushed to my bathroom and pulled a brush through my hair and smoothed the wrinkles from my dress. I followed as closely as I could behind Celeste without being seen or heard.

When she entered the door to her room, I waited outside, peeking in through the crack between the door and the frame. She sat at the vanity on the other side of the room, poured rubbing alcohol onto a cotton ball, and started scrubbing the red polish off her perfect nails.

Slowly, I inched my hand around the door and gripped the key that was inside the keyhole. I sluggishly turned the key, all the while peering through the crack to make sure her eyes were on herself.

As soon as the lock clicked, I pulled out the key and slid my hand back around the door. I grabbed the handle from the outside and gradually shut the door, turning it so it wouldn't snap shut. I inserted the key from the outside, successfully locking it so whoever was inside couldn't get out.

I smiled to myself as I skipped down the hall, dropping the key into a vase of flowers as I made my way down to the music room.

* * *

Music practice was a complete success. Anne had brought seven other maids, two of which were maids for Queen Amberly, who was still visiting her sister. Some of the men from the kitchen also offered to sing choir parts, but no solos. I had expected as much. I thought a group of singers suited Christmas music much more anyway.

As I walked around the room tuning old instruments and played the piano as the miniature choir sang, my mind strayed to Carolina and my family. Maxon had all but proposed last night, and I knew that the last time my family had visited, Maxon had asked my father for his permission to marry me. I thought that now may be a great time to give my family a heads up that they may be moving to the palace very soon.

Around four when the cooks had to get back to the kitchen, I set another practice time up for tomorrow after breakfast and headed to my room to write a letter to my family. The last letter I had written was to May a few weeks ago when she'd asked if I would be seeing her for Christmas.

The odds looked good, I thought to myself. A smile lit my face as I wrote.

_Dear Mom, Dad, May, and Gerard,_

_I hope all is well! How are Kenna and the baby? Things are going well here. I know you probably saw I wasn't on the last Report. I had an allergic reaction to a flower from the gardens, so I was stuck in bed. Though I am not sure I really minded having to miss it for once!_

_So I think there is a possibility you all might get to come to the palace for Christmas! Things with Maxon are… great. I can't even describe it. I hope you all get to start spending a lot more time here at the palace very soon. _

_I love you,_

_America_

I decided that was enough of a hint without actually assuming the obvious. I licked the envelope closed and Mary ran it down to the post for me while Anne did my hair and Lucy applied some light make-up.

Tonight they dressed me in a strapless knee-length black gown with a sweetheart neckline. It flared out from my waist and a satin black belt circled it there, tying into a bow on the small of my back. They left my hair down, curling just the very ends to give it a little body. Lastly, Anne clipped a red rose bud to my hair, making me look sophisticated but young.

When I walked into the dining hall for dinner, only Celeste and Kriss sat at the Elite's table. Maxon and King Clarkson hadn't arrived yet.

I had expected Celeste to be in a bad mood tonight – she was locked in her room most of the day, after all. I thought about asking her who finally let her out, but that would only confirm that it was me.

So it surprised me when I dared to peek up at her through my lashes and saw that she had a smug smile on her face. Her nose was in the air, as usual, but I could only describe her demeanor as positively _glowing_.

She chewed her food delicately, studying me through malicious eyes.

I swallowed a piece of pork chop. "Is there a problem?" I practically snapped.

She raised her eyebrows and her smile widened. She took another bite of her mashed potatoes without answering me.

I rolled my eyes and tore off another large piece of pork chop as the king strolled in. He glanced our way for just a second before taking his seat and starting his meal. I looked towards the door, waiting for Maxon to approach. But he never came.

"I wonder where Maxon is," Kriss said, biting her lip. "Do you think he's sick?"

Celeste stared right at me as she spoke. "Whatever it is, he'll get over it."

I narrowed my eyes and ate the rest of my dinner in silence.

After dinner, I headed straight for Maxon's room. I wasn't sure what Celeste was so smug about, but my biggest concern was that something had happened to Maxon before dinner. My first thought was to go to the secret passageway the queen had shown me on the second floor, but I decided that if the king had hurt Maxon, it was most likely Maxon was already in his room trying to dress his wounds.

I took the stairs two at a time until I got to his floor. I nearly ran to his room, trying not to look too flustered as I approached his door with two guards standing on either side of it.

One of them bowed to me and winked. I recognized him as one of the guards that Carter used to work closely with, and I offered him a smile.

I knocked on Maxon's door quietly. "Maxon?" I called, trying not to sound panicked.

I turned to the guard and pointed at the door, silently asking him if Maxon was in his room. The guard nodded.

I knocked again, this time a little louder. "Maxon? It's me, America."

Silence. I huffed, folding my arms in front of me in annoyance. I tapped my foot against the tile floor. I saw the guard look at me out of the corner of his eye and smile.

"Maybe he's showering, miss? Or sleeping?" the guard on the other side of me suggested, laughing with the other guard.

I sighed. "Maybe." I was content to leave if I knew one thing. "Could either of you tell me if he was holding a box when he came to his room? It's just a little grey box with his name on it."

The first guard raised an eyebrow. "Nope. Nothing like that. He came in right before dinner started and hasn't been out since. But he didn't have anything with him."

I nodded. "Okay. Thank you."

I walked back down the hall as the guard's eyes followed me with confusion.

When I got to my room, I took off my dress on my own, giving my maids the night off. I coiled up in a little ball underneath my sheets in my silk shorts and light t-shirt, worry following me into my dreams.

**Please review, favorite, and follow!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Here is Chapter 17, as promised! Thank you to those who read and reviewed Chapter 16 - IChangedForYou, AmberRena, ilona18, Novel Reverie, prnamber3909, RitzaHerondale, and lilythemermaid!**

**Just so you know prnamber3909, your comment cracked me up! I was thinking the same thing as I wrote the chapter. Also, lilythemermaid, I think I am speaking for everyone here when I say Zach needs to get his very own fanfiction. ;)**

**Happy Easter everyone! Don't forget to thank our Savior for saving you a place in heaven today!**

**A.R. Darcangelo**

Chapter 17:

The following morning after breakfast I sauntered to the music room, still worried and stressed at Maxon's absence. It could mean a number of things, but it was hard to concentrate when I didn't know why that was.

He was missing from the royal's table this morning – again. No one was brave enough to ask the king, and when I'd asked the guard who had been standing at Maxon's door as I passed him in the hall, he told me he hadn't seen him since he'd disappeared into his room last night.

I tightly shut the Maxon-drawer when I got to the music room. I had to trust that he was okay and his lack of attendance had a purpose.

Several servants were already in the room, practicing pieces together. Anne and a few of the other maids were doing some voice exercises as well. She smiled when I walked into the room.

"My lady, why aren't you smiling? Your frown doesn't match your outfit," she said with a coy smile.

My maids had dressed me in a sky blue silk dress with cap sleeves and an empire waist. My hair was done in a simple up-do with a few curled strands accenting my face. Mary had applied some faint blush and lip gloss, while Lucy had added only a minimal amount of mascara to finish the look. I looked fresh faced and beautiful, almost unrecognizable to myself.

Today we rehearsed the first part of the presentation, which was to play while dinner was served. The violinists and two pianists played some classic Christmas music in low tones, leaving out any vocals. The servants were going to take shifts for the hour that was planned for the meal, which I had discussed with Kriss this morning at breakfast.

Before Amberly left, she told Kriss, Celeste and I that we had been assigned to take over Elise's project for the Christmas ball. We were to plan the meal together – and luckily, Celeste was about as disinterested in the food as I hoped she'd be. Kriss and I collectively decided that the meal would come in four courses, one plate coming in right after another, making the meal about an hour. This gave me the freedom to plan the music around what exactly was taking place at the ball. It had really been a blessing in disguise to take over that portion of the planning.

After the servants went through four shifts of instrumental Christmas music, we would start the ball with _The_ _Christmas_ _Song_, led by a quartet of maids, including Anne, who had a small solo. Afterward, all the servants would come in together, either playing an instrument or singing, surprising everyone with an amazing rendition of _Winter_ _Wonderland_.

I was so pumped by the end of our session that I walked out of the music room singing _Let_ _It_ _Snow_ to myself.

"_The fire is slowly dying, and my dear we're still good-by-ing, But as long as you love me so, Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!"_

I passed by a grand window on the way to my room, and out of the corner of my eye I saw the graying sky and little white flecks floating toward the ground. I ran back to the window, pressing my nose against the pane, watching as the first few bits of snow began to fall. _It_ _was_ _snowing!_

I nearly ran into Mary as I jetted to my room, skidding to a stop. She told me there was a wool winter coat waiting for me in my closet. They knew me so well – of course they would guess that I wanted to go outside and play in the snow.

I put on the long black coat and pulled on some snow boots they had left for me as well. The bottom of my dress would probably get a little wet, but I knew if I was careful it wouldn't get damaged.

I was just about to leave my room when I spotted something on my bedside table. I padded over to it, staring at the white oleander that was placed on the top of a folded note. I noticed that the flower's thorns had been removed and some florist's plastic had been wrapped carefully around the petals.

I unfolded the note, already knowing who it was from. Only three words were written:

_The garden – 3:00._

I sighed. _Aspen. _Looking at the flower, I knew he must have heard about my visit to the hospital wing. It had been carefully stripped of most of its poisonous properties, with the exception of the insides of the flower. I hoped he hadn't hurt himself or acquired hives while he was fixing it so I could have it. If only he knew that the flower was behind another world of hurt for Queen Amberly and Maxon. I knew he couldn't possibly know that, so I didn't blame him for it.

I glanced at the clock. It was two thirty. I decided to leave right now so I could enjoy myself before meeting Aspen. I wasn't even sure why I was agreeing to meet him in the first place – yes, we were friends, but I was well on my way to becoming engaged to the crowned prince of Illéa.

But it wouldn't hurt to visit him for just a minute, right?

I walked down to the garden, surprised when the guards at the door didn't stop me. I assumed that maybe it was because at least one guard in particular was already out there. I idly wondered if the guards were now patrolling the gardens too.

First I stopped at the bench where Maxon and I had met. I smiled at the memory, laughing at the way I had cried about the cage I would be permanently living in shortly. Maxon was right – it was a rather beautiful cage.

I moseyed over to the small garden of white oleanders, keeping a safe distance. They were only poisonous to touch, but I still felt repelled by them. They had killed Maxon's brothers or sisters, and had caused Queen Amberly's suffering.

_No_. I thought to myself. The flowers were just a tool in the hands of the person who had caused all that pain and suffering. King Clarkson had done that, not the beautiful flowers sitting in front of me.

I heard a footstep in the snow behind me. The familiar crunch of a boot on snow thrilled me. It reminded me of Carolina.

I whipped around, but no one was there.

"Aspen?" I whispered, my eyes scanning the garden between the flurries of snow that were coming down more heavily now.

What I saw next made my blood run cold, but it wasn't because of the snow or the wind chill.

Maxon stepped out from behind a large oak tree encompassed by frozen rose bushes, walking slowly as if every step pained him.

My breath caught in my throat at his expression. My fingers were already numb, but the rest of me seemed to follow suit as he stepped in front of me. There was about five feet of space between us, but it felt much larger.

Finally, he spoke. "No. It's Maxon," he said, his hands lying limply at his sides. His eyes were glassy.

I opened my mouth to say something, but no words would come out. Maxon filled in the silence for me.

"I thought – " he began, his voice cracking. He shook his head, looking down at the ground.

"I didn't want to believe it. Even when I saw you come, I thought maybe you were expecting me, and I could explain away your being here. But then you said his name." He took a ragged breath. He glanced up at me then, looking through his lashes. I wanted to wipe away the tears forming there, but I was the one causing his pain. I couldn't take it away.

"Yesterday afternoon, Celeste had a bit of an issue. She somehow locked herself in her room. After I assisted with helping her get out, she pulled me aside and told me that she had something important to tell me. She said that a few days ago, she was on her balcony sunbathing – and in the dead of winter. It is just one of many ways she has tried to seduce me over the past couple of weeks, since our balconies face each other." He shook his head ruefully. "Anyway, she had spotted a guard in the garden. He was plucking one of the oleanders – which isn't a crime in itself. I don't mind. I thought it was rather romantic – perhaps there was a maid he had grown a fondness for. I could give up a flower to aid the guard in courting his girl."

He took another deep breath. When he spoke this time, his voice was thick with tears. My eyes welled up so I couldn't see his face anymore.

"Then I realized what she was saying. The guard was plucking the flower for you. That was how you got the oleander in the first place. I didn't put the pieces together until that moment. I remembered seeing you with the guard a little over a week ago – Officer Leger, was it? Or as you know him, Aspen? He has been guarding my room or my study. He was there this morning, and it took everything in me to not confront him. I wanted to be sure."

He stopped speaking as I burst into tears, the heat of them burning my cold cheeks. I tried to speak, to explain any way I could, but my words were jumbled and didn't make any sense. I covered my face, not wanting him to see me fall apart.

Maxon gently wrapped his hands around my wrists, pulling them down so I had to look at him. I tried to breathe through my tears, but I could only manage soft hiccups. Maxon's face was wet, too, silent tears streaming over his cheeks.

"America, please," he begged. "Tell me something – anything. I don't – I _can't_ believe it. Please, America, _please_." His breathing was as uneven as mine. The sound of his broken voice tore at my heart.

I shook my head. "I-I-I'm s-sorry," I stuttered through my tears. "I s-should have told you w-when I saw him that first d-day."

Maxon looked so devastated. In his eyes I could see the battle he was fighting. His heart was telling him to forgive me, but his mind told him that I had kept this secret from him, and even though we were so close to being together, I had still lied to him. How could he trust me?

That's what it came down to. In this moment, I had lost his trust, perhaps forever.

Maxon just looked down at his feet, shaking his head slowly. I wasn't sure if he was responding to what I had said, or if he was willing himself to not let this come between us, after everything we had been through in the short amount of time I'd known him.

I took deep breaths, trying to gain control of my voice. "Maxon, yes, I lied to you. I didn't tell you about Aspen because at the time I wasn't sure about us… I didn't even know there was going to be an _us_ yet. Just when I made my decision, everything with Marlee happened... and I was so angry, Maxon. And I thought you didn't care about me anymore, and we were fighting, and Aspen was there…" I paused, tugging on my wrist, which was still encircled in his hand, willing his eyes to see that I was telling the truth. After a long minute, he looked up at me.

He had never been more beautiful than he was in that moment, the tears on his cheeks drying just as fresh ones were forming in his eyes. His blonde hair was speckled with snow, and his cheeks and nose were reddened from the chill. His brown eyes were almost gold as they reflected off the pearl white snow.

"Even after all that," I whispered, my own voice breaking, "From the moment I learned that you and I had felt the same way for one another, even though it may have only been for a short time in the beginning, and that what I had felt was something more real than anything else I have ever felt in my whole life – "

He interrupted me, letting go of my wrists and taking my face in his hands, kissing me with all the anger, fear, and sorrow of the moment. The kiss broke through the hurt and the pain, giving us a minute to forget.

When he drew away, he kept holding my face as he looked at my eyes. They studied mine, trying to see the truth there.

"Maxon," I whispered. "I love you. The day you saw us here in the garden, I was telling him not to wait for me anymore." More tears rolled away from my eyes.

I saw as his eyes changed, turning softer as the words sunk in. _He_ _believed_ _me_.

Behind the belief, however, was pain. He was still hurting, and I knew anything I did or said right now couldn't fix that.

After a long minute, he took his hands away from my face and took a step back. "I need some time," he said softly.

He didn't wait for me to respond. He walked away then, wiping the excess tears from his face as he went. I stayed where I was, looking after him.

I thought back to when I was still making my choice and I had asked both Aspen and Maxon for time. He was asking the same of me now – and although I was willing to give him whatever he needed to get over this, I didn't expect how heart-wrenching it was to hear someone tell you they needed time to heal so they could love you again.

I was suddenly very truly sorry that I had asked Maxon for time.


	18. Chapter 18

**Thanks for all the great reviews! I normally don't do super crazy cliffhangers, but the chapter was already really long, so I stopped here. I promise I won't leave you all hanging for long!**

**Pretty please review and follow! I love it when you do!**

**A.R. Darcangelo**

Chapter 18:

Even in the midst of my misery, I watched in wonder as the palace was transformed. Almost overnight, lush Christmas trees lined the hallways of the first floor, garlands were strung down the stairways, and all the floral arrangements were changed to include holly or mistletoe.* Normally, the sight would lift my spirits, but I couldn't see anything clearly with the haze of sadness constantly clouding my vision.

Besides the happiness of the season, my spirits should be up because I was now at the top of the polls. The rebel attacks had decreased – we hadn't had one since the night Maxon and I had left the palace for the first time. Even all that good news couldn't lift my spirits.

I had only seen Maxon during mealtimes for the past few days, and if I had to guess, he was spending the majority of his time with Kriss. She was his best bet if I disappointed him – he had said so himself a couple weeks ago when I had nearly left. The worst part was that I _had_ disappointed him in the worst way possible.

A part of me had always wondered if my feelings would change if Maxon ever found out about my rendezvous with Aspen. Were any of my feelings for Maxon driven by guilt for being with Aspen here in the palace? I now knew with absolute certainty my feelings for Maxon ran deep and had nothing to do with the regret that came after I allowed so much to happen with Aspen after Marlee's caning.

I loved Maxon, without any reservations. I loved him so much that I let my mind wander over the past several days, wondering what would be best for him – even if I knew it wasn't what was best for me.

"Miss, are you alright?"

I turned and saw one of Celeste's maids, Julie, standing with a dress zipped up in a plastic bag. The shiny purple fabric underneath would look beautiful on Celeste's tanned skin tonight on the _Report_. I couldn't even properly hate her for figuring things out – I had brought this on myself. I was mostly worried that she was going to sell the story to her favorite magazine, but thankfully, nothing had appeared in the media. My heart stuttered at the thought. I wonder what Maxon must have said – what he had come up with as my cover story – to convince her that what she had seen meant nothing. She did seem content enough that Maxon and I were much more distant than usual. I was sure that was all that mattered to her.

The maid was staring at me worriedly. I realized she must have asked the question again.

I swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes, Julie, I'm fine."

Her eyebrows creased with concern. "Miss, I don't mean to contradict you in any way… but you don't look fine. Is there anything I can do?"

I shook my head quickly. I didn't look back up at her, just listened as she trotted off to Celeste's room.

My hand was on the doorknob of the music room. I wasn't sure how long I'd been standing here, but my heart wasn't into the music program that I orchestrated with the servants, although they were doing a fantastic job without me. I was thankful that I had at least a few good practice sessions with them before this disaster – at least they could continue on without me if they had to.

The doorknob twisted without me moving a muscle and I jumped back as Anne exited the room.

"My lady! There you are. I was just about to come to your room to make sure you were alright." She stared at my face.

"I'm fine," I replied robotically.

Anne frowned sympathetically. I knew she, Mary and Lucy knew something major had happened, but for once, they didn't inquire, they just continued to give me comforting looks and touches as they prepared me for meals and other events where I was required to be present. They dressed me like a queen every day – on the outside, I looked as I always had, but on the inside, I felt like a dirty mess and far less than royalty.

Anne pulled me inside the room, bringing me to the group of servants who would be making up the choir. We currently had seventeen servants prepared to sing, and we had twenty-six instrumentalists. Would Maxon be surprised and pleased by their performance, even if I wasn't here to see it?

Anne had been smart about distracting me over the past few days. She stood at the center of the choir as they sang each song, echoes in just the right places and solos nearly to perfection – to anyone else, it _would_ be perfect, as it was probably only my ears that could hear any discrepancies with so much music experience.

Around four, the edges around my heart began to ache again as the servants cautiously exited the room, Anne and I bringing up the rear as we headed to my room to prepare for dinner and the _Report_.

Tonight, they dressed me in a midnight blue gown that split at the bodice, revealing an ivory and golden lace top. It fanned out at my waist and trailed to a small train. They left my hair down in soft, beautiful ringlets, pinning a golden butterfly to my hair. I touched it admiringly, remembering Halloween night when I believed that Maxon was going to send me home – but at the end of the night he had held me in his arms and told me that no one could compare. I had been dressed as a butterfly that night, and the clip in my hair was a small reminder to me to not give up hope.

I smiled as I walked down to dinner. When I entered the room, everyone was there except for Kriss. Maxon glanced up at me as I walked in, and I could have sworn his eyes lit up, if only for a second.

Sure enough, Celeste was dressed in her purple evening gown that molded to her thin frame perfectly. I felt truly bad for her maids – they were very talented, and didn't deserve the treatment Celeste gave them.

I spooned very little onto my plate, my appetite small lately, and for the first time, I realized there was no one in front of me to pour me a glass of water, as there always was. I glanced around me, noticing a shortage in servants. Most of them hovered around the king, and even then, it seemed like only one was ever waiting and present as the others refilled the king's or Maxon's glasses and removed empty plates and dirty napkins.

Kriss waltzed into the dining hall as I was pouring my own water, and I spilled a good amount of it onto the table as my jaw went slack.

She was wearing a hot pink gown that had a cut that bordered on conservative and avant-garde. Only pink lace covered her back, and there was a slit in the skirt up to her knee. I couldn't decide if it was akin to the red dress I'd worn a few weeks ago to seduce Maxon, or if it was just simply risqué for Kriss since she was so conservative.

I glanced at Maxon. He looked surprised, but I couldn't tell if he was appreciating the view or was just too shocked for any sort of reaction.

Celeste rolled her eyes and pushed her shoulders back, revealing more cleavage.

As Kriss sat down, I smiled as she struggled to sit gracefully in the revealing gown, as tight as it was. She too noticed that there were no servants to pour water for her, so she had to get up again and pour herself a glass, shaking as she did in an effort to look scandalizing in the dress with her every move.

I glanced up at Maxon, whose eyes were widening more and more every second.

Next to him, the king was oblivious, grabbing for his drink. When he found his glass empty, he slammed the glass down, looking wildly around him. The only servant in the room was trying to help Kriss back into her seat as she struggled with her own glass.

"What is this?! Where are all the servants? They are all disappearing left and right. How am I supposed to eat?" King Clarkson shouted, thumping his fist on the table.

"Father – " Maxon said, looking embarrassed.

"I don't pay them to sit around! They are here to work!" He thumped his fist on the table again as the servant who was assisting Kriss stumbled over, mumbling apologies as he refilled the king's glass.

The tips of Maxon's ears turned red with mortification. His eyes met mine just as I realized which servants were missing. A laugh bubbled between my lips. I bit my cheeks to keep from choking out a giggle.

I knew that the servants usually left the music room by four to prepare for dinner, but I noticed less and less of them at mealtimes, and once as I was wandering the palace after dinner, I had heard music in the hall, so I knew there were several of them that practiced outside of the scheduled times. They all seemed extremely excited about it after they had gotten the program down. It may just be the Christmas season, but they were putting everything they had into the project.

Maxon's eyes stared at me questioningly as he tried to distinguish my mirth. It only took him a few seconds to realize I was behind the absence of the majority of the servants. He couldn't help it – the corner of his mouth twitched up into a half smile. He shook his head and looked down at his plate, still smiling.

As I looked back down at my own plate, a discreet cough behind me caused me to turn my head.

The boy Maxon and I had met in the alley was behind me, a plate of dessert in his hands. He winked at me as he offered a strawberry tart. My grinned widened as I took one.

I remember Maxon asking the boy if he could meet with someone in the alley the afternoon after they'd met. Maxon must have offered him a job at the palace so he would have more income and a better place to live for Liz if they got married.

My appetite returned slightly as I nibbled on the strawberry tart.

After dinner, Kriss, Celeste and I followed a few maids to the room where they filmed the _Report_. They touched up our make-up and smoothed our skirts as we sat in our chairs across from the king and Maxon.

Too soon, the hot lights turned on and Gavril was straightening his bowtie and hissed into his microphone for a quick sound check. For some reason, this _Report_ felt like it would be different – more meaningful somehow.

"Welcome, Illéa!" Gavril shouted, the camera zooming in on his smiling face. "Here we are with King Clarkson, Prince Maxon, and the three Daughters of Illéa – one of which will be your future queen! On a side note, please, continue to keep Queen Amberly in your thoughts and prayers as she is visiting her sister."

_Yeah_, _right_. I thought.

"For the past few weeks we have had individual interviews with each young lady and Prince Maxon – but tonight I would like to try something a little different. I would like each of the ladies to come talk about their time at the palace. We have heard so many stories and I feel as though we all have had experienced much of this journey with you, but as we are so close to the end, I want to know what each of you ladies will walk away with if Prince Maxon does not choose you."

An audible awe from the audience sounded. "I know," Gavril said, an apologetic edge to his voice. "Not a very happy subject – but as this may be the last time we get to hear all of you speak, I want to give you all one last opportunity to not only win the heart of our prince, but also the heart of Illéa.

"Miss Celeste Newsome, would you please take the stage?" Gavril said, holding out a hand.

My nerves started as she began to talk. Celeste's speech sounded like rushing water to my ears, and when Kriss stood up, although my ears refused to hear her words, I could tell the entire country was _oohing_ and _awing_ at her declarations. Maxon's face was bright, his smile making his back straighter. Even though Celeste was acting like she didn't care, I could tell even in her posture that Kriss was making a statement.

What struck me most was how happy Maxon and Kriss looked as they stared at each other. Was it love? I couldn't tell – but what I could tell was that Maxon's face didn't reveal any of the hurt it had every time he'd looked at me, not just in the past few days, but since the beginning. When I had asked him for time, and couldn't promise him a future with me, or when he had come to my room and tried to kiss me after Marlee's caning and I'd rejected him, hurting him more than I would probably ever know. And lastly, when I had whispered Aspen's name in the garden, and not his.

My eyes welled up with tears just as Gavril called me forward.

I shakily got up from my seat, blinking the tears away.

"Lady America, how lovely you look tonight," Gavril complimented.

"Thank you, Gavril," I said, my voice flat.

"Now, America, tell us, if you were to go home tomorrow, what would you take away from this experience?" he asked, putting the microphone beneath my mouth.

I swallowed, trying not to breathe into the microphone. "I wish I could take the food."

The audience laughed, and out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw Maxon grin.

Gavril guffawed more jovially than everyone, momentarily taking the microphone away from my mouth so I could take a deep breath.

"Lady America, if you do go home anytime soon, Illéa will miss your wit!" Gavril chuckled.

"Thank you," I said, trying to smile. My muscles were too tight.

"Now, really, what would you take with you our dear Lady America?" Gavril said, again setting the microphone in front of me.

My eyes flickered to Maxon. He was leaning forward in his seat a little, but the sadness still sat in his eyes.

"I have learned so much… it would take me forever to tell you all the things I will take from this." I stopped, swallowing as I tried to clear my dry throat. "But if I had to pick any one thing that will stay with me… I have learned that your dreams and hopes can change. And if they don't change into something different, they can develop and grow and become great things. They stop being impossible."

I smiled a little, looking at the camera. "I had no idea how much I cared about Illéa until I came here. I had never been outside my own province, and just seeing the little bit of world that I have outside of that has broadened and opened my eyes in ways I can't explain."

My eyes flickered back to Maxon as I spoke the next words, hoping he could hear the meaning behind them so I wouldn't have to say them later. My heart only had enough strength the say them once. "But most importantly, I will take what others here have taught me – I now know how to balance six books on top of my head and walk in a straight line. I know how to write a good speech… and a bad one." The audience laughed again. "And I have learned that people can surprise you, if only you give them a chance." Maxon's eyes bore into mine, and I could see he understood that I was thinking of him. "If you never give them that chance, you may give up the best chance you have at happiness. I think I've learned that the hard way."

I laughed with no humor as the audience offered another polite chuckle. I made sure Maxon was still looking straight at me as I said my last words. "Everything I have experienced here – the people I've met, they have changed me forever. I will never forget it." Maxon's face took on a grieved expression as I spoke. In the most subtle way I could do it in front of the country, I had said the same words he had said to me when we last said goodbye.

"_You've changed me forever, and I'll never forget you."_

I had asked him not to tug his ear with anyone else. His response had been perfect.

"_A lot of things are yours, America."_

I imagined he was saying it now, even though his expression said otherwise. I stepped away from the microphone as the audience applauded and Gavril wrapped up the _Report_.

As the lights dimmed, I saw Maxon making his way towards me. His father caught him by his collar and pulled. Maxon turned to scowl at him.

I had planned on getting to my room as fast as possible to pack my small amount of things and get out of here. I knew Aspen or Carter and Marlee would help me if I asked them to. But I couldn't walk away from the scene in front of me.

The king's face began to turn purple as Maxon stood tall, shrugging out of his grasp. I had never seen Maxon stand up to his father like this, except on the night he had been caned.

My feet stayed planted to the ground, my heart thudding wildly._ Maxon, just walk away. I can't leave if you're hurt._

The king grabbed the top of Maxon's arm and yanked him out of the room. Maxon pushed away from him as the exited. Kriss and Celeste looked through the open door nervously.

My feet came unglued from the floor as I rushed to the door. The king saw me approaching and his face meshed into an angry sneer.

"_You_. This is none of your business, so you better stay out of the way," the king snarled.

"Honestly, I don't care whether or not it's my business," I said angrily. "I refuse to stand by and watch you hurt your own son!"

"America, please," Maxon begged, angling his body in front of me.

The king's looked murderous. "Maxon, _now_." He eyed me, driving the point hard.

Maxon stood up straighter. "No."

I couldn't have been more proud of him in that moment. He was standing in front of me so that I had to look over his shoulder to see his father, and his voice held all the authority of a king.

"No? _No?_" the king said, his eyebrows raising. A slow smile began to spread across his face. "Guards!"

Three uncomfortable looking guards hurried over, saluting the king shakily. The king bobbed his head toward us. I clung to Maxon's arm. I wasn't going to leave him without a fight.

But it wasn't me they were coming for. With apologetic gazes, the guards grabbed Maxon all at once, holding him back. Maxon yelled as King Clarkson roughly grabbed my arm and began dragging me across the floor.

Somewhere in the background I heard Kriss and Celeste shrieking, and my own shouts were drowned in the chaos.

Maxon was kicking and screaming as hard as he could, trying to wring out of the grip of the three guards holding him. The last thing I saw as I rounded the corner with the king was Aspen's confused and scared green eyes as he struggled to keep Maxon still.


	19. Chapter 19

**You all pretty much had the same reaction, so a good answer for all the reviews are: I'm sorry! Thanks for liking it even though it gave you feels! **

**I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as the last. This is a more mature chapter as far as violent content, just so you are all aware. Don't worry, I won't leave you all hanging for long :)**

**A.R. Darcangelo**

Chapter 19:

As the king and I rounded another corner, I dug my heels into the carpet and tried to stop. Adrenaline pulsed through my veins, making me stronger.

"I have had _enough_!" the king yelled, one hand grasping the nape of my neck. He continued to pull me forward and my strength diminished quickly.

We turned the corner to the second floor and approached the wall with the framed mirror. My heart began to pound and more adrenaline pumped through me as I attempted to get away. I kicked my legs out, aiming for his side but missing. Instead I caused us both to lose our balance and we both crashed to the floor. I shakily scooted away as I tried to get up. I would have been fast enough except that I tripped on the small train tangled around my left ankle, and I again fell ungracefully to my knees.

King Clarkson grabbed my hair, dragging me by it as I screamed.

An audible gasp made him turn his head, but I was unable to look because he was holding onto my hair so tightly. His face drained of color and he sped up, tipping a lever hidden in the vase of flowers set on the table underneath the mirror. The wall swung open a crack and he had to turn me around to push it open for the two of us to fit.

My eyes locked with four men, dirty and skinny, all but one holding a gun. The one not holding a gun had a stack of books in his hands, only his eyes visible around the top book in the stack. Their wrists were slack as they aimed their guns, the shock on their faces giving away that this was not what they were prepared to see.

A group of scrawny, underfed rebels were my last hope. "Please!" I yelled, squirming in the king's hands as he yanked me into the room. "Help me!"

The wall slammed shut, the king bolting it behind us so even if someone were to pull the lever from the outside, they would have no way in. He continued to drag me to the next room, the metallic scent having faded since the last time I was here. He flipped the light switch and threw me roughly to the middle of the room, the heels of my hands scraping against the concrete floor.

"You couldn't just leave," the king said quietly. Underneath the calm was a menacing edge that made me cower on the floor.

In spite of my fear, I squared my shoulders and defended myself. "I was leaving. If you weren't threatening my only reason to stay – "

The king dropped to my level, his face inches from mine as he grabbed my chin. "_I_ am the king. _I_ can do whatever I see fit. Your only reason to stay is the prince, but _you_ aren't _his_ only option. He needed to let you go so this country would stop getting ideas about change. I am tired of him running after you like a love-sick puppy. Nothing will change, especially when the idea stems from a _five_."

He shoved my face away, standing and walking to the other side of the room. I quickly got to my feet.

"You won't get away with hurting me. I am at the top of the polls – if the people find out you hurt their top pick for the next queen and you'll have riots left and right." My chest heaved as I spoke, my voice revealing my fear.

The king shook his head, laughing without humor. He took the cane off the wall and ran his hand along it. The bottom was stained with Maxon's blood. "Oh yes, the people's favorite. How you managed that overnight, I don't know. You don't have any money to buy your way to the top."

He stopped a foot in front of me, his hands still playing with the cane. "Maybe if I hurt you, the people will become angry. And yes, riots, rebel attacks… they won't stop. But if I do more than hurt you…"

He began to circle me. My pulse was uneven and I felt sweat start to bead on my forehead. "You are the symbol for change in this country. The people see you as the mediator we need for it. But let's say I kill you." He stopped in front of me again. "Their symbol will be gone. There will be no more hope. And you'll just be an example for all those who try to rebel."

I shook my head, my movements quick. "You're wrong."

"Am I?" he said. He pulled a bucket from the shelf on the wall, and walked to the other room, stopping at the sink to fill it. I felt sick.

He strode past me, setting the bucket down near the stained concrete. I knew how Maxon must have felt, time and time again as he walked through here, his father filling the bucket and soaking the cane in water as he punished him with words first before his back.

I breathed through my nose, willing myself to be calm as I spoke. "No, you're wrong," I said with absolute clarity.

The king just raised an eyebrow at me, not at all offended by my words. He did hold my life in his hands after all. But I didn't relent.

"People have already seen that change needs to happen. I just confirmed what everyone else already knew. You can kill me – but the idea won't die with me." My hands balled into fists at my sides and I lifted my chin.

The king frowned at my words. He took the end of the cane out of the bucket of water and turned to face me.

"Shall we test your theory?" he said, a frightening edge to his voice.

I didn't answer. My breathing just got harder. If I could manage to avoid his first strike, I might be strong enough to wait if anyone was coming for me. I knew it was a longshot with the door bolted shut, but I had to try.

Just as the thought crossed my mind, the cane whipped out, missing my face by inches. I ran for the doorway into the first room, my skirt whipping behind me. I heard a tear as the cane connected with the train on my skirt, slitting it cleanly. I jolted back as an unseen force caught my ripped train. I toppled back onto the floor, landing on my elbows.

I turned back just as the king whipped the cane back out. My hands instinctively covered my face. The cane connected with my left hand, creating a painful gash right in the middle of my palm. A cry bubbled on my lips but I held it back with difficulty. I bit my tongue and when the next lash came, I grabbed for the cane.

My bloody hand slipped on the end, making the cut deeper, but it threw him a little off balance. I yanked on the part of my skirt that he was standing on and he stumbled backwards, and the cane hit my left temple as he struggled to keep his balance.

Despite the pain in my hand and temple, I bolted for the door, still holding onto my skirt so he couldn't step on it again. I reached the bolted wall and my right hand had nearly reached it when I was shoved face first into the wall. My face scraped the stucco, scratching my right cheek. The king yanked on my shoulder, turning me to face him. He pulled me towards him, then slammed me back up against the wall. The back of my head struck the wall too hard.

I saw shooting stars in front of my eyes, an ice pick migraine beginning in my left temple. I tasted blood in my mouth. I slid to the floor, my legs crumbling beneath me.

I had tried – but now I was going to die. I had tried to leave but I couldn't even do that right. Now I would die.

Tears formed in my eyes as I realized the last time I had been alone with Maxon was when we were in the garden, and I was breaking his heart. That's not how I wanted him to remember me. I suppose if I had left when I had wanted to tonight after the _Report_, it would have been the same. But at least he would have known I had chosen it, and left him free to pick the safest choice. I hoped he still would, and that my death wouldn't faze him. I hoped he would be the king I knew he wanted to be, and somehow, the king would lose his power. I hoped the idea of change would stay alive.

As the king returned with a freshly dampened cane, I lifted my hands in front of me again in one last effort to save myself.

Then I heard a voice. It was muffled, almost unrecognizable. But it was there. I don't think the king heard it, but I did. The voice took on a pleading edge. So much fear and pain was in that voice, and I couldn't give up as the sound egged me on.

As the cane whipped out again, I ducked, letting it miss me. As it whistled in the air, I turned and stood, grabbing the deadbolt with my good hand, sliding it out of its lock. The cane hit my back, and I heard the back of my dress tear, leaving my skin bear, but unharmed.

I felt the wall give way and I almost fell through the crack before I felt a hot hand grab the back of my neck. I was thrown to the floor, my head hitting the concrete with less force than the first time, but my skull had taken enough trauma. The edges of my vision turned black and fuzzy as the king towered over me.

I heard a scream and the king disappeared from my vision as Maxon's blurred form materialized. Maxon and his father were lost from my view as I closed my eyes, the pain overshadowing my ability to keep my eyes open.

Even as my body seemed to physically shut down, I heard everything. The screaming, the feral growls that seemed to come from every corner of the room. The sound of wood snapping. A faint clicking sound, followed by a gunshot.

My eyes snapped open, my heart beating out a staccato rhythm as my eyes blurrily searched for Maxon.

And then there he was, his brown eyes in front of mine. His fingers wiped at my eyes and I felt something warm and wet smearing away with them. I realized the darkness in my vision must have been the blood from my head wound.

"America!" he yelled, too loud for my head, which pulsed with sensitivity. "America, please, stay with me. Everything is going to be okay. I'm here," Maxon cried, his fingers still trying to keep the blood out of my face.

My head was pounding, and my lips were stone. I wanted to tell him I could hear him, but my muscles seemed to be absent from my body.

"America, please," he begged again. "Please, tell me you can hear me. I'm sorry. Please stay…" Maxon sobbed into my neck.

I concentrated all my thoughts on him, mustering every ounce of energy I had left to whisper his name.

I didn't remember saying it out loud, but he must have heard me, because he held me to his chest and whispered with relief, "I'm here. I love you."

I felt more arms wrap around me, and I let my head loll to the side. Just as I was being lowered to lay on a softer surface, I allowed the darkness to fill the last of my consciousness, my heart hanging onto Maxon's words.

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	20. Chapter 20

**Thank you to the sixteen people who reviewed for all the awesome reviews! I am so flattered! Also, I am so sorry if I've made you cry... and I apologize in advance if I make you cry again!**

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**Only eight days until the One comes out! Yay!**

**A.R. Darcangelo**

Chapter 20:

The room around me buzzed with energy, never giving me a moment of silence. Whispers at the foot of my bed and the beeping heart monitor beside me – it was an ever constant flow in my ears. But even with all the noise, I didn't open my eyes. They were too heavy, and every once in a while, the heaviness felt like it was rushing through my veins, lulling me into sleep. The one sound that haunted my dreams was the whistling of the cane in midair and the single gunshot that sometimes jolted me out of sleep. I didn't let it concern me too much though – whenever I heard it, my greatest fear was that it was Maxon who had been shot, but then I remembered his pleading voice asking me to stay. All that mattered was that he was alive.

There was still a sharp prickling on my left temple, though the pain was dull. I hadn't had the strength to feel for stitches, but if I had to guess, there were probably several of them. The hot flow of blood was clearer to me now than when my adrenaline had been pumping as I had tried to escape the king's cane. I now remember with clarity that there was a lot of blood, and I wasn't sure I wanted to know what I'd looked like when Maxon found me.

Every once in a while though, I could forget about everything when I felt Maxon's soft hand on mine. I knew they were his because they were strong, but they lacked the callouses of someone from the working class. His thumb rubbed soothing circles into the back of my hand, and sometimes I would feel his soft lips brush against it, shooting electricity up my arm.

If I had to guess, I would say right now it was early afternoon, as footsteps echoed through the room and more whispering transpired a few feet in front of me. Unexpectedly, I felt warm fingers curl underneath my right hand. I almost jumped at the sudden contact, but it was not unwelcome. The corners of my lips turned up.

"America?" Maxon whispered, his voice close to my ear.

I took a deep breath through my nose and mustered some strength to squeeze his fingers. He squeezed mine back.

"America, can you open your eyes?" he pleaded.

I still felt too heavy to move, but I knew whatever medication was normally coursing through my body wasn't as potent at the moment. This might be my only chance to shake some of it off so I could talk to him.

Slowly, I let my eyelids open, unintentionally fluttering them.

Maxon's anxious face greeted me. One of his hands was still in mine, and he was seated on the edge of the bed, leaning over me.

"Hi," he breathed, starting to rub my hand with his thumb.

"Hey," I croaked.

"How are you feeling?" he asked worriedly.

I shrugged. That didn't hurt, but I was a little stiff. "Can I sit up?" I inquired groggily.

He nodded, tucking an arm under my shoulders and slowly pulling me up against the back of the bed. "Are you comfortable?" he said, looking directly at my eyes to see if I was in any pain.

"Yeah," I replied, my throat scratchy. "Water?"

He leaned over and grabbed a cup that was already by my bed. I lifted the hand he wasn't holding to grab the cup and I realized it was wrapped up in gauze. I couldn't bend my fingers the way they were wrapped, so I slipped my right hand out of his and took to cup, drinking slowly.

He took the cup when I was finished and brought his now free hand to my face. "Really, are you feeling okay? I thought… there was so much blood…" his voice cracked a little.

"I feel okay. What's the damage?" I winced as a sharp pain shot through my temple.

His eyes raked over me anxiously before answering. "Your left palm was badly cut, but luckily you didn't need stitches. Mostly it was your head. You have a lump the size of a baseball on the back and you needed six stitches here." He lightly grazed my temple with his thumb.

"Is that it?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, no," he said, smiling. "You also had a small cut here…" He leaned in and touched his lips gently to mine.

"Oh," I said as he pulled away, a blush rising to my cheeks. "Not too bad then?"

He shook his head, the smile disappearing from his face. "America, I am so sorry. I should've never let him get close to you. I should've come to you and not stopped to wait for him to argue – "

I put the fingers of my good hand to his lips. "Maxon, stop. It wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could do. And besides, you _did_ save me."

Maxon kissed the tips of my fingers before taking my wrist and lowering my hand. "Not quick enough."

I sighed, knowing he would always wish he could've saved me from the injuries. But what mattered was that I was alive.

"Maxon, after you came into the room… I lost sight of you for a minute. But I heard a gunshot. Who…?" I trailed off suggestively.

His eyes lowered, looking down at our hands. "My father… he's gone."

When he looked back up me, there was regret, but there was also another emotion – guilt. I had the urge to touch his cheek, but I stopped myself, not wanting to make things harder.

Maxon took a deep breath. "Is it… _wrong_ for me to be relieved? Maybe you are the wrong person to ask, but I wish I could miss him... I guess I miss who I wanted him to be. I will never have the opportunity to have a real father. The chances of that weren't good while he was alive. But now I will never have that chance."

I nodded in understanding. "I can't even imagine how confusing this must be for you," I whispered. "I'm… sorry you had to do what you did."

His eyes snapped up. "America… I didn't shoot the gun."

"You didn't?" I asked in confusion.

He shook his head. He wasn't smiling exactly – but I could tell there was something he needed to tell me. "Can you wait here just a minute?" he said, squeezing my hand.

I was reluctant to let him go, greedy for my time with him, but I nodded. He slid off my bed and pushed the light pink curtain around my hospital bed open. He walked down the hall of the hospital wing and opened the door. He stuck his head out and I heard murmuring.

My eyes popped open wide as Maxon moved to the side and Aspen walked through the door. He came to my side slowly. He didn't sit down, but his demeanor was more relaxed, rather than the stiff guard I had seen lately.

"Hey, Mer," he said grinning. "You're a sight."

"A good one, I hope," I replied, glancing at Maxon. He had turned his back, trying to give us some privacy. "So…" I said, trying to figure out what exactly had happened while I'd been sleeping.

Aspen reached out and lightly held my gauzed hand. "When the king took you… I didn't know what was going on. I didn't know he was going to hurt you. Prince Maxon started screaming that we needed to let him go because he was going to take you to the second floor… I didn't understand at first. I thought that he just didn't want you to leave, but then I realized he meant the king was going to _physically_ hurt you… So I pushed the other guards off him. They weren't as willing to back down, so I had to hold them off while the prince got a head start.

"Then when I got there, you were lying on the ground, and you were covered in blood. I knew you weren't dead yet, but you were going to be if we didn't get you out of there. And Prince Maxon and the king were fighting… your prince was doing pretty good, but the king had that nasty cane in his hand, and I decided it was going to be me against the king if I didn't do something." Aspen looked down, almost ashamed, but not frightened.

Then I grasped what he was saying. He had shot the king – _Aspen_ had killed the king of Illéa.

My face must have revealed my shock, because Aspen began speaking quickly, almost defending himself. "Mer, he had already hurt you. He would've killed you if we hadn't gotten there when we did. And I think he was ready to kill your prince… maybe he wouldn't have gone through with it, but my guess is he would've hurt him pretty bad. So I did what I thought was the right thing to do."

I let out the breath I was holding. "What are they going to do to you?" I murmured fearfully.

Aspen smiled. "Nothing. Well, except promote me to head of security for the royal family."

"_What?_" I gasped.

He chuckled. "I guess they decided I basically saved the only heir to the throne of Illéa – and everyone knows what happened. No one – not even the king's foreign allies are siding with him. I think mainly what saved _me_ was that I saved the prince. But it helped that I was saving you, too."

I shook my head in disbelief. "We've come so far, haven't we?"

He nodded. "Yes, we have." His eyes met mine then. "Mer, your prince and I… I told him everything. Including that you had asked me not to wait for you anymore. He said that you had said as much, but I knew he needed the push. When I saw him react the way he did when his father took you, then when you were lying there bleeding… He loves you."

His admittance wasn't regretful. It sounded like acceptance. "And that means?" I prodded.

"It means I approve." He winked.

I laughed. "You _approve_? Oh, so now you have to approve of my boyfriends?"

He laughed with me. "No. I just mean he's a good man… I tried so hard not to like him, but I know without a doubt he'd do anything for you, and that's all that matters. I… I know you'll be happy, Mer. And that's all I want for you."

My eyes started to burn. "Aspen… thank you. You have no idea what that means to me."

"I think I do," he answered, his eyes revealing no hurt. I was so glad if I had anything, it was Aspen's friendship. This was the way it was supposed to be.

A torrent of cries broke our eye contact. Anne, Mary and Lucy all bolted through the door, holding their skirts as they ran. Maxon was shaking his head, smiling. Aspen had stepped to the side, letting my maids stand by the bed.

"My lady! You're alive!" Lucy cried.

"Yes, it appears so," I replied. They all took turns patting the parts of my body that were undamaged, expressing relief that I was awake and doing well.

"Miss, you are going to stay aren't you?" Mary inquired.

My eyes flickered to Maxon. He stared at me questioningly.

"Um, can we talk a little bit later? I promise, I'm not going anywhere today," I said, my smile hard.

"Oh yes! You must be tired, my lady," Anne said, shooing Lucy and Mary away. All three of them didn't recognize the implication of my words. I watched as Aspen looked after them, his eyes locking on Lucy. The forlorn look in his eyes reminded me of the way he used to look at me whenever I left the treehouse all those months.

He glanced back at me and gave me a small smile. "Are you okay, Mer?"

I nodded. "Yeah… I'll be okay."

He leaned over and kissed my forehead lightly. "See you around, then." He walked out of the hospital wing, leaving Maxon and I alone once again.

He sauntered over to the bed, his hands in his pockets. "You aren't leaving today. But what about tomorrow?"

I looked down at my lap. "Maxon… your father is dead. That means you are the king… or you will be soon. You have to make a decision."

He was quiet. I snuck a glance at him.

"Yes, I will be king. Very soon. And I have made my decision," he acknowledged, his eyes boring into mine.

I shook my head. "I can't be a princess, Maxon," I whispered.

He sat down on the edge of the bed. "Why?"

I bit my lip. How hard would it be for him to let me go? A part of me wanted it to be easy. I didn't want to fight him, because I wasn't sure how long my resolve would last. On the other hand, I wanted it to be hard – it would be proof that despite everything, he still loved me.

Maxon reached over and cupped my face. "America, don't do this. You _can_ be a princess. I've seen it time and time again. And I don't want to hear about how you messed up on the _Report_, or anything else you've done that would make you feel that way," he said as I opened my mouth to argue.

I turned my head so his hand fell from my face. "You don't need me, Maxon. What you need is someone who is content to be on the side and support you while you learn how to rule a country almost from scratch. And I know I won't be able to do that. I will always want to be right there with you, making mistakes and hurting you while I make them."

Maxon was shaking his head halfway through my speech. "I _do_ need you. I want you right beside me, every day for the rest of my life." He was pleading with me, his eyes sad.

I closed my eyes, not wanting to see his face when I said the next words. "Maxon, I want to go home. This isn't my home."

He went silent again. This time when I opened my eyes, he didn't respond, he just stared at me, shock and hurt coloring his expression.

"I'm sorry, Maxon," I whispered.

He swallowed. "I-I understand." He leaned forward and kissed my cheek, his lips lingering for a moment. He started to pull away, but stopped a few inches from my face. His brown eyes, so sad and vulnerable, searched mine. I thought he may kiss me for a moment, but then he sat back, the space between us cold.

I struggled to keep my eyes dry. I knew this was the end, but neither of us wanted to say it.

Finally, Maxon stood up without looking at me. "Goodbye, America."

I watched as he walked out of the hospital wing. He had barely made it through the double doors before I gave in and let my tears flow.

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	21. Chapter 21

**Here is the next chapter! I am not sure if everyone had time to catch up and read the chapter I posted yesterday, but I don't want to keep you guys waiting since everyone is begging me to update! Please bear with me - there is a happy ending!**

**As always, thank you for the kind reviews. They inspire me to keep writing!**

**A.R. Darcangelo**

**P.S. Dhenn618 and all those who were wondering - the story isn't over yet. I have a few more things up my sleeve. The story will finish before the book comes out May 6th, so expect a few more updates this week.**

Chapter 21:

I was released from the hospital wing early in the morning, and I had already said my goodbyes to my maids and Aspen. I would see Aspen again – he was going home for Christmas this year. His family didn't know that yet, so I would have to hold in that secret for another two weeks. My maids promised me they would try to keep the music program for the Christmas ball, but it was possible that Kriss or Celeste would change it since I was leaving.

As I packed the last of my things, I listed all the reasons I was leaving in my head: one – I would be a terrible princess. My head was full of ideas that I didn't know how to communicate. I also would be a horrendous queen. The grace and patience that Queen Amberly exhibited on a daily basis was astounding, especially when the king had been such a…

I shook my head. Thinking about the king was the last thing I wanted to do. His funeral was today, and I wasn't even sure who was going to show up.

I knew I also couldn't stay because _everyone_ knew what had happened – and when I say everyone, I mean it. When Aspen had told me that, I didn't realize he meant the entire country. Apparently, the rebels who had seen the king and I as we entered the safe room had gone directly to the media with the information – and Gregory Illea's diary. Maxon's room had been ransacked during the _Report – _apparently he had been hiding it at the bottom of a box full of camera film. One of the rebels had knocked it over while trying to take a picture with his camera. The picture was actually quite funny – that had been floating around as well, much to the dismay of the rebel, I'm sure.

On top of all that, it turned out the servants who supposedly had been stealing items from the palace around the time Maxon had been born weren't servants – the king himself had been giving palace goods to the rebels to keep them at bay, and over the past few years, he had stopped sending out goods, which is why the attacks increased dramatically. Everything – the stolen goods, the white oleanders, the queen's miscarriages, and the diary – had been secrets hidden by the king to keep things under his control and power.

Luckily, it had been easy to tell the public that the diary had been kept from Maxon until recently. The people Maxon and I had met while we'd snuck out of the palace had been interviewed as well, and while the public was mostly skeptical, there was some hope that change would happen now that the king was gone.

That was another reason I couldn't stay. Maxon was in full king mode. He hadn't been crowned yet, but like I had told him, I was not content to stay on the side while he visited provinces and foreign countries to calm the hysteria and keep the country from falling apart. Those were things that were too dangerous for me, and until Maxon had things under control, I would be sitting on the sidelines wondering if he was going to come back. I couldn't bear to do that.

Of all these reasons, there was only one that trumped all of them: I was still in love with him. I wasn't sure if I'd ever stop. But I was certain that there was a better choice for him. Kriss could do all the things I couldn't, and I don't think a fly would dream of touching her. Maxon could be happy with her. I had seen as much on the _Report_, and that was enough of a reason for me.

I could finally see why Aspen had left me in the treehouse so many months ago. Yes, I had not been chosen for the Selection yet, but I could understand wanting what's best for the person you love. I had never loved Aspen enough to do that – but I loved Maxon so much that I couldn't justify being with him when I knew I wasn't what was best for him.

I reminded myself of this every time I was tempted to run to his room and tell him how much I loved him, and beg him to let me stay. It was unclear if the competition was over, but as far as I knew, Kriss and Celeste were still here. If I stayed, I may still be part of the Selection, and to be honest, I was through with the whole dang thing.

My door squeaked open, and I sighed. "Girls, I know you don't want me to go. I don't want to leave you either. But it's the right thing to do," I said with conviction. No one answered. I loved Mary, Anne, and Lucy, too, but this was making everything so much harder!

I whipped around to tell them as much, but stopped short. She was as beautiful as ever, and the news of the past few days didn't slump her shoulders. Even dressed in all black, she was as regal as she'd ever been.

Queen Amberly.

I quickly curtsied. "Queen Amberly! I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was you." A blush creeped up the back of my neck.

She waved a white gloved hand at me, shooing away my salutation. "How many times do I have to tell you to call me Amberly?"

I shrugged. "I forget. It's been so long since I have seen you."

Her eyes downcast as she slowly walked over to me. "Yes, I do apologize for that. I believe I have some explaining to do."

I shook my head. "No need. I understand why… I hope you are doing well. Are you?"

She nodded, offering me a small smile. "Yes, quite well actually. I returned just about twenty minutes ago. I tried to visit you in the hospital wing, but you had already left. Although I am glad that you are here, and not there." She glanced around my room – well, it wasn't mine anymore.

"Yes, me too. I feel like new." I smiled at her.

She didn't smile back at me. She reached out her hand and held my unbandaged one. "America, why are you leaving?"

I sighed. I had built a relationship with Queen Amberly as well; I didn't want to leave her either. "Because it's the right thing to do."

"I think I got that when I came in," she said, raising her eyebrow in a motherly fashion. "But who says it is the right thing to do?"

"I do," I responded without hesitation.

I was surprised when she let out a laugh. "America, you are so intelligent. But when it comes to the most important things, you overthink everything and you make terrible choices."

"I know," I agreed. "That's one of many reasons why I am leaving."

"Do you have any reasons to stay?" she said knowingly.

I sighed again. I wasn't about to tell her my _only_ reason to stay, because regardless of his actions, the king was right – I wasn't Maxon's only option. It didn't matter that he was mine.

She observed my silence for a moment. "America, don't be silly. My son loves you, and it hurts him more for you to leave. And yes, you may not be the most diplomatic choice for the country, but you are what it needs. Maxon gives the country what you can't, and you do the same for him. You compliment each other perfectly. You have every reason in the world to stay."

I shook my head. "No, I don't."

She let go of my hand and tilted my chin up. "When I left, I immediately started making plans for you and Maxon to come with me. I knew you were his choice – from the beginning, I saw it. And every time he came to the breakfast table with a miserable frown on his face, I told him to buck up and go make up with you. He wasn't going to be happy until he did. It's not like that with anyone else. If he doesn't have anyone else, it doesn't matter if he has you."

My eyes started to burn. "But Amberly, I have hurt him… so many times. One of these days it's going to be the last straw, and I will have outstayed my welcome. He'll be begging me to go."

She laughed, tapping my nose with her pointer finger. "You are so stubborn. The choice is yours, America. But I guarantee you are making the wrong choice by leaving him. Neither of you will be happy."

"He'll get over me," I said, leaving out that she was right at least about me.

She cocked her head, studying me. "For what's it's worth, I think that your ability to stand here and argue your point after everything you've been through proves that you can be a queen. You have it in you, I know you do. But you have to see it first." She took my hand and patted it. "Also, I do apologize for all that you have had to experience. I hope your time here at the palace doesn't leave too many scars."

I smiled. "The best people all have some kind of scar." *

I knew she knew that I was talking about her. She had lots of scars – and she was the bravest person I knew. She leaned forward and pulled me in for the most unladylike bear hug. I squeezed her back, missing her already.

"Goodbye, my dear America. I hope we meet again," she said into my hair.

"Me too," I mumbled into her neck.

She let me go, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. Then she turned and left me alone.

I walked around my room one last time, running my hand over the small piano, more beautiful than any other one I'd ever touched. I looked out over my balcony, drinking in the beauty of the garden I loved so much. I spotted the bench where I had met Maxon. It was _our_ bench. I hoped that was one of many things he would keep tucked away just for me.

I finally stepped out of my room, closing the door behind me. I walked down the stairs and to the front doors of the palace, remembering the last time I had stood here, expecting to leave.

In my memory, Maxon had come running, telling me he had convinced his father to let me stay. Even though his father could never stand in our way now, here I was, ready to walk out of his life forever.

Before I could hesitate one more time, I turned the handle and walked through the door, letting it shut tight behind me. There was already a car waiting for me, the back hatch open for my little bag. My maids had saved all the dresses they had ever made me, and those were already being shipped to my parent's house. They would probably make it there before I did.

I threw my bag into the back and a guard opened the back door for me. I slid inside, waiting for it to shut. The lump in my throat got larger.

"America! America, wait!" a young, feminine voice yelled.

"Wait!" I said, holding my hand out so the guard wouldn't shut the door. I jumped out of the car and whipped around, looking for the source of the noise.

Marlee was running across the front lawn, Carter jogging behind her. Underneath her shirt there was a little bump, barely noticeable.

"Marlee!" I cried as she reached me. She wrapped her arms around my neck as I lightly squeezed her back.

"You weren't going to leave without saying goodbye to me, were you?" she said, scolding me.

"I'm sorry, Marlee, I wasn't thinking," I admitted guiltily.

"Maxon just told me you were going home. I wanted to come visit you in the hospital, but I can't because everyone still thinks we're gone. Although Maxon says now that his father is gone, we may be able to come out and everyone will know what he did for us. I mean, I don't think that's why he'd do it, but it wouldn't hurt for people to know that. Oh, America, why are you leaving?" Marlee asked, her face confused.

"I have to," I said, my face withdrawn.

She tucked my hair behind my ear. "No, you don't. But I respect your decision. I wish you could see the baby." Her hand cupped her stomach.

"Oh, Marlee! I forgot, congratulations!" I said, a smile lighting up my face.

"You forgot? How did you know, I just…" She turned to Carter accusingly. He shrugged his shoulders. Marlee blew out a puff of air. "Oh, Maxon, I am going to hurt that man. He wasn't supposed to tell you."

"I was supposed to act surprised," I said, hoping he wouldn't be in too much trouble. "Don't be too hard on him."

She sighed. "I won't," she promised. "If you won't be too hard on him."

I looked down at my feet. "It's the best thing for him," I mumbled.

"America Singer, you are a stubborn idiot. But I love you," she said, hugging me again. "And I will miss you. Promise me you'll write to me?"

I grinned. "I love you, too. And of course I promise."

"Good," she said, letting me go. "Well go on, you don't want to miss your plane."

I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek as Queen Amberly had done for me. I slid back into the car and the guard shut the door.

As the driver started the car and began to drive away, I looked behind me, memorizing the view of the palace with Marlee and Carter standing in front of it, his arms around her growing tummy.


	22. Chapter 22

**Here is the chapter you all have been waiting for! I hope it meets your expectations!**

**Please review, favorite, and follow!**

**A.R. Darcangelo**

Chapter 22:

My pencil tapped in a staccato rhythm against my desk. I was trying my hand at writing, since I was a three now. I had gotten a job as a music teacher within four days of my return to Carolina. It had been a week in total, and already things in the provinces were changing.

Kriss' education program had already been in progress before the king's death, and afterward it had almost immediately gone into effect. The royal family was funding a good portion of it right now, since classes were free, and a small tax on luxury items would continue to fund it in the future. It was a good program – it allowed the money from the higher castes to trickle down into the lower castes so they could have the same education opportunities. It in turn would open doors for the caste system to be removed because the job market would be open to all who had the same education and training experience.

I was a good songwriter, I knew, but as far as storytelling, I wasn't sure that was a talent of mine. Perhaps poetry? I scribbled some lines down, awaiting my class at four. Today was Friday, so classes would end after about an hour and I would go home for Christmas vacation. My family would be performing a lot this week, and I was making a guest appearance at several homes since I hadn't really practiced with them, but I knew they were benefiting from me coming to sign a few autographs and take pictures.

Since the king's funeral, there hadn't been much coverage from the palace – not that I'd been keeping up. It would have been too hurtful to watch Maxon with Kriss or Celeste. The Report would be on tonight, and even though that was practically considered mandatory, I was not planning to watch. Over time, I knew I would hear about Maxon's engagement to Kriss, and later about their wedding. I tried to keep the hole in my chest from throbbing as the thought crossed my mind.

_It's_ _what's_ _best_ _for_ _him_, I thought to myself, over and over.

My class began to file in as rain started to sprinkle on the windows. I had fives, sixes, sevens, eights – and even some twos and threes. I concentrated mostly on teaching how one could learn to read music, and when it came time to play an instrument, most people took turns, learning from watching how to play as well as hands on work.

At about five-thirty, I excused my class and walked home. The rain was coming down in torrents now, cold and heavy. I welcomed it, stretching my hands out and raising my face to the sky. I let the water run over my face and down my neck, chilling me to my bones.

"America!"

I turned and saw my mom standing with her hands on her hips, a disapproving frown on her face. She was wearing a new apron, one that wasn't yet stained from years of cooking, and there was no burned edge like the one she'd had before. My father had given it to her as an early Christmas present so she could comfortably cook over the holidays.

I ran to the door, reaching out to hug her.

"America Singer, no you don't," my mother said, jumping back to avoid getting wet. "You're going to catch a cold! Go change into something dry. I have some of your clothes in the dryer."

Since I had gone to the palace, my family had used a lot of the money the royal family was sending to make repairs to old machinery and other items that had been falling apart in the house. The dryer we had now dried a big load of clothes within minutes, as opposed to the day it used to take, if our old one was working at all.

I pulled out a long sleeved shirt and some sweatpants from the dryer and yanked a brush through my wet hair before padding out to the dining room for dinner. Tonight we were having ribs with barbeque sauce and fried potatoes. Everyone in the Singer house still licked their plates clean, and because of the royal family and my major job raise, sometimes we even had seconds. The heater was also working and although we were still careful about how much we used it, on rainy days like today we kept it on, warming the house as we ate.

Kenna and her husband had come by with the baby, who was currently curled up in a rocker, sleeping. May was at the table, her mouth running a million miles an hour. She was talking excitedly about the French class she was now taking at three in the afternoon. She had a sparkling plastic crown atop her head, and she had on one of the dresses my maids had made for me.

My mother had an anxiety attack the first time May came out to the dinner table wearing one, but I insisted that she get to wear them as much as she'd like. If a messy eater like me could manage to eat in those dresses for months at the palace and not make a mess of them, I was sure May could too.

Gerard on the other hand had been studying more advanced math while I was away, and he had acquired a pair of glasses. I ruffled his hair as he took a big bite out of a pork rib.

"How are you doing, kitten?" my dad asked as I nibbled on some fried potatoes.

"Good," I answered automatically.

He stopped chewing, leaning over to put his arm around my shoulders. "Are you?" He raised an eyebrow at me. My dad knew me better than anyone in my whole family.

I looked up at his knowledgeable eyes. "I… I am. I just… I miss him," I admitted.

My dad patted my shoulder. He knew how to comfort a crying woman. I almost laughed at the memory of Maxon's fearful expression as I had almost started to cry during our first _formal_ meeting. "Kitten, I know you did what you thought was right. But don't be afraid to change your mind."

He went back to his food then, taking a second helping of ribs. I played with the rest of my food, gladly giving it up to Gerard when I spied him eyeing it hungrily.

After dinner, I helped my mom clean dishes. We could afford a dishwasher now, but my mom liked doing dishes by hand. I dried them as she washed in silence. It wasn't uncomfortable – although my mom disagreed with my decision perhaps more than anyone, for once she understood that my emotional state wasn't strong enough to argue about it.

"So, are you going to watch the Report with us tonight?" she inquired.

"No, I don't think so," I said as I stuffed a towel into a cup.

My mother sighed. "Sweetheart, you made this decision. I don't think it helps you to move forward if you avoid him."

I cocked my head and stared at her. "Oh, I don't know, Mom. When most people go through a break up, they don't heal by watching their ex on live television with another girl," I said sardonically.

My mom smiled. "Yes, but your relationship with the prince has never been normal."

I rolled my eyes. "If it's just regular stuff, I'll watch. But the second he comes on for an interview, I am going back to my room and I'm never coming out."

"Sounds like a plan." My mom concealed another grin.

My family all curled up together on our reupholstered couch as our national anthem sounded from the television. My heart pounded uncomfortably.

"Welcome, Illéa!" Gavril announced with his winning smile. For the most part, he went over a lot of the same news coverage that had been on all week. He played a lot of clips that had been recorded around the provinces and reported that some rebels who had no intentions of backing down had been caught.

As Gavril started to announce that we would have a brief message from the prince, I uncurled, ready to jet back to my room.

"Honey, just wait a minute. It's not even a live interview," my mom said, patting my knee.

I sighed and buried my head into my knees. A brisk knock sounded at the door.

"Who in the world could that be?" my dad said gruffly.

"Really, it's pouring!" my mother said beside me, just as May shouted, "I've got it!"

I heard her footsteps pound out of the room and into the front of the house.

"Who is it?" my dad called. I heard the door squeak open but all we could hear was the pattering of the rain.

I looked up to see who was at the door, but my eyes found the television first. Maxon's face took up the screen, and I couldn't tear my eyes away. He was speaking, but my ears were still listening for May's answer behind the sound of rain hitting the pavement.

"America!" I heard her call.

My mom nudged me. "America, I think it's for you."

"The door?" I said, taking my eyes off the screen to look at her.

"Yes," my mom said in exasperation, pushing me off the couch.

Some of his words echoed in my ears as I uncurled from my little ball on the couch. He was talking about his upcoming coronation, and I noticed the slowness in his voice, along with the dark bags under his eyes. It pulled at my heartstrings.

"_America_!" May sang impatiently.

I padded to the front door as Maxon ended his speech. Sadness flooded me, making my vision foggy.

I swung open the door a little wider as May grinned at me and wiggled her eyebrows.

When I looked up, there he was, rain drenching his hair and clothes, and his brown eyes were cautious but determined. It was like he'd jumped out of my television just so he could knock on my front door. The same bags were under his eyes, although they were a lot more pronounced in person.

"Maxon," I breathed, my hands beginning to shake.

"Hi, America," he said nervously.

"What are you doing here?" I asked stupidly. I saw May sneak away out of the corner of my eye, giving us some privacy.

"I came to see you," he answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Now?" I said, my brain still not quite caught up with what was happening.

"Well, I left this morning… my plane landed about an hour ago," he said with confusion. "America, I need to talk to you. I know now might not be a good time, but I can't sleep… I mean, not just now, but the past week has been torture," he admitted. His face was so vulnerable, I instantly felt guilty.

"Anything you want to say," I promised.

"Will you answer one question for me? Truthfully?" he said imploringly.

I looked at his brown eyes, so honest and exposed, and I couldn't say no. "Anything."

He took a deep breath. He reached out and held my healing left hand in his. "Do you love me?"

I stared at our hands, my heart stuttering back to life. "Maxon… I-I'm home and I –"

"America," he interrupted, his voice soft. He held both of my hands now. "Please, tell me," he whispered.

Then the tears that I had refused to weep since the day I left the palace came relentlessly. "Of course I love you."

Maxon smiled, and I couldn't tell if he was going to cry, too, since the rain was in his face. "And do you know how much I love you?"

I shook my head, but I was smiling through my tears. I just wanted to hear him say it.

I wasn't sure if I had moved closer to him, or if he had moved closer to me. But I could now feel rain sprinkling on my face as it splashed against his. "America… everyone has gone home, but the only one that's really gone is you," he said, his brown eyes full of security. "I love you. I would move from the palace and live in your home here in Carolina if that's what you wanted. I would make your home mine, because I can't be where you aren't. That's just the way it is."

I choked out a sob. "Say it again," I whispered.

He looked at me in surprise, smiling. "Say what again?"

"Tell me you love me," I asked, my heart too full to be embarrassed.

He brought his hands up to my face and cradled it between his hands. "America Singer, I am so in love with you. I don't want to live without you, and I won't give up on you."

More tears ran down my cheeks. "Maxon, I am so bad for you. How could you ever love me the way I love you?"

He shook his head. "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. And don't let me ever hear you say you are bad for me. Shall I list all the ways you've changed me, and made me fall in love with you over and over again?"

I closed my eyes, covering his hands with mine. "I don't know if I'd ever believe you."

He rested his forehead against mine and chuckled. "Says the girl that brought her maids with her into the royal safe room during a rebel attack to ensure their safety. And the girl who rushed to save her best friend, not caring what would happen to her as a result. And the girl who showed me the world, and how it needed to change, and told me time and time again I could be the king this country needed. That girl is the girl I fell in love with, and she is standing right in front of me, as stubborn and headstrong as ever."

"I am also the girl that hurt you over and over again," I answered, my voice wavering.

He shook his head. "Even when I was feeling hurt, I couldn't deny that my heart was still with you. And to be honest… before I found out Officer Leg – Aspen was at the palace, I always wondered if you had the opportunity, if you would go back to him. If you would leave me," he said, stroking my cheek with his thumb. "But now I know you wouldn't have. I know that you have chosen me… just as much as I have chosen you. There is no one else, America."

"Maxon," I cried, my heart already changing its mind before I gave it permission to.

"Yes, love?" he whispered, a smile on his face. He knew he had me.

"Kiss me?" I asked, a smile playing on my lips.

"I never thought you'd ask."

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine, first slowly, and then I had my arms wrapped around his neck, and we were both out in the rain, drenched form head to toe. I couldn't care, because he was here, and he wasn't willing to let me go. His arms were around my waist, holding me up so my toes were barely brushing the ground beneath my feet.

He broke away, leaving only a breath between us. "America, can I do something?"

"What?" I asked, already pulling him back in for another kiss.

He gave me a quick peck before sinking to the ground. I didn't understand at first, but then he was looking up at me, a mischievous grin on his face, and one knee was on the ground. As he was pulling open the little black box he'd snuck out of his pocket, I started crying, my hands covering my face.

"Yes!" I cried through my tears, which were now unstoppable.

"But you haven't even seen the ring yet!" I heard him say, a smile in his exasperated tone.

I peeked through my fingers. In the little black box lay a blue sapphire, surrounded by tiny diamonds, resting atop a single, thin white-gold band. It was simple, but it was perfect. It reminded me of the little blue bracelet he had bought for me on his last trip to New Asia, which still hung on my left wrist.

"America Singer?" Maxon was staring up at me, tears definitely welling in his eyes. "I love you. You are the one. Will you marry me?"

I nodded. I thought I may have screamed yes again, but I couldn't remember past my crying, and then he was kissing me, and I didn't want to ever stop.

It wasn't until I heard applause from my doorway that we broke apart, our faces both surprised and beet red. My mother was crying into my father's shoulder as he grinned happily at the two of us. May was bouncing on her toes, yelling, "America is a princess!" repeatedly, while Gerard hid his face in my father's side, making barfing noises. Kenna and her husband stood behind them, smiling, holding their little bundle. I saw a future Maxon and myself in them.

I looked back up to Maxon again and wiped his wet cheek with the tips of my fingers. He turned his head and kissed my palm.

Then I reached up on my tiptoes and smiled against his lips, not caring who was watching.


	23. Chapter 23

**This is my final chapter of The One - I hope you guys enjoy it. It is more of a filler chapter, since everything basically happened in the last few chapters, and now that The One is out, I am sure everyone wants to dive into that story! I am still trying not to cry! I think I am going to re-read it next weekend, and maybe I'll get all the tears out then!**

**Thank you for the support as I wrote this story, it was so fun! Thank you to everyone who reviewed and favorited and followed. Really, it means so much!**

**If you all would like me to continue doing one-shots, I would love to tack those on to this story. Sound off in the review section and let me know if that's something you would like, or if you all want to leave Maxon and America where they are! Sometimes, that's the best way to end things, right?**

**A.R. Darcangelo**

Chapter 23:

We got back to the palace on Christmas Eve – me, my family, and my fiancé. My _fiancé_!

After Maxon and I had dried off from my proposal out in the rain, he stayed in Gerard's room overnight with two guards outside his door, as well as several guards all in front of our windows and front door. Gerard slept in my parents' room while my mom slept in May's – May of course slept in my room, and she wouldn't stop whispering _my_ _sister_ _is_ _a_ _princess_, _which means I am a princess!_ nearly all night long.

The plane ride home – the palace – was rather uneventful. I snoozed on Maxon's shoulder nearly the whole way while my family enjoyed first class service a few rows back.

Maxon would occasionally stroke my cheek, kiss the tip of my nose, and whisper lovely words in my ear during the trip, keeping me from truly being able to sleep.

I was going to marry Maxon Schreave, the love of my life. He loved me, and he couldn't let me go. My heart stuttered every time I thought about it. No amount of time would ever be enough with him.

It was now around midnight, the Christmas party in the palace starting to slow. The maids and other servants had performed all the musical entertainment and they'd been a big hit. Anne had even pulled me up to the stage as the choir began to sang, embarrassing me. I couldn't stay too embarrassed though as Maxon looked up at me, looking completely floored. Eventually, the whole party was singing carols, dancing around the twenty foot tree that was sitting in the middle of the ballroom.

I had just walked out in my crimson dress to get some fresh air and cool off from the dancing, taking a seat on _our_ bench. I ran my hand over the cold stone, remembering my first meeting with Maxon. And here I was, so in love with the person I swore I never would.

I didn't regret it for a second.

I heard the rustling of leaves behind me and I smiled. I knew who it would be.

"Has the party made you weary, Your Majesty?" I said with a smirk.

"Yes, quite," his deep voice rumbled behind me.

He took a seat next to me, moving my hair over my shoulder and leaning in to place a kiss under my jaw. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you look tonight?" he breathed against my skin.

My heart fluttered in my chest. "No," I whispered back. "When do I have time to look in the mirror when all I want to see is you?"

I felt his smile against my throat. "Hmmm…"

His hands slid up my arms and came to rest on my shoulders. His left arm pulled me to face him. His chocolate eyes met mine, and I crushed my lips to his. One of his hands twisted through my hair and the other held me tightly at the small of my back. The night was quiet, and the only sound that could be heard was the sound of our lips moving in synchronization.

In the background, the bonging of a grandfather clock echoed.

Maxon pulled away. His lips were still brushing mine as he spoke. "It's midnight. That means it's Christmas."

I smiled underneath his mouth. "So it is." I pulled back, but he still held me tightly. "Don't you want your present?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Right now? Maybe later…" He leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine. I laughed, pushing him away lightly. He pouted.

I giggled. "Come on, you'll love it," I promised, taking his hand in mine and pulling him off the bench. We walked quickly and quietly through the garden doors and up the staircase to my room.

I turned to him as we approached my door. Which now happened to be the princess' suit. "Promise me if you hate it, you'll lie?"

Maxon shook his head. "I could never hate it, it's from you."

I rolled my eyes. But I believed him. And if tonight's performance was any indication, he would be looking at me with the same wonder and admiration.

We walked into the room, the sky blue walls welcoming, and trotted over to the piano. I let him sit on the bench with me.

I had been working on the piece since I started the Selection, and though I didn't realize it then, it represented my relationship with Maxon. It started out sad and slow, in mourning for something lost, but then it fused into something new and hopeful, and ultimately ended leaving me with a feeling of devotion and happiness that I wasn't sure I could ever say in words.

When I finished, I looked up, discovering Maxon had tears brimming on his lower lashes. "That was for me?"

I stared at him, trying to convey how serious I was as I spoke. "You weren't my reason to stay at the beginning, you know that. But as our friendship grew… You became the reason. And it was as easy as breathing for me to fall in love with you. Even if I fought that for a while," I admitted.

The tears spilled over his lashes as he leaned in to kiss me, tenderly and delicately. Like my first kiss with Maxon, it made me feel like a lady.

When he pulled back, he kept his forehead against mine. "I love you. I love you so much. Promise me you'll stay with me."

He had asked me that same thing once before, but this time I knew my answer could never change, and my feelings were more solid than they had ever been. So I answered the same way, but this time I held his face in my hands and offered him a smile. "Of course I promise." I kissed him gently then and whispered the words that felt like they would never run dry. "I love you."

He smiled at me then, taking my hand. He led me over the large bed in the middle of my room, slipping his shoes off as he sat on the edge. I slipped off mine too, and we lay together, just looking at each other. He stroked my hair and cheeks as he'd done on the plane, and I did the same. We memorized each other's faces with touches, neither of us wanting to break the moment with words.

"Maxon?" I finally whispered as my eyes started to grow heavy. "Stay with me?"

One corner of his mouth lifted, and he returned the sentiment. "I promise."

He drew me close then, curling his arms around me as I lay on his chest, still in my evening gown while he lay in his suit. I don't think either of us cared. I lay like that on his chest, twirling my engagement ring around my ring finger.

"America?" he whispered.

"Hmmm?"

"I just wanted to tell you I love you. You know, just in case you forgot."

I bit my lip and tried to hide the smile in my voice. "Maxon?"

"Yes?" I definitely heard the smile in his.

"Just in case you forgot, today is Christmas. Where is _my_ present?"

He laughed aloud, unable to keep it in. "You want it right now? I'd have to leave you for a minute," he warned.

I squeezed him. "Maybe not."

He lifted me off of him. "Where are you going?" I whined.

"Don't worry, I'll be right back," he promised.

He ran to the connecting door between our rooms and walked into his. I heard a bit of shuffling before he came back with a small box in his hands. It had a small bow on top of it, but otherwise it wasn't wrapped.

"What is it?" I asked as he handed it to me, sitting next to me on the bed.

He kissed my shoulder. "Open it and you'll find out."

I pulled the bow off the top and stuck it to the top of my hair. Maxon chuckled next to me as I lifted the lid of the box.

Inside was a large stack of photos, hardly fitting in the little space. I pulled some out, starting from the left, and began flipping through them. At the beginning there was a picture of me sitting at the breakfast table with a group of girls that I had met on my second day at the palace. I was slouched a little, not looking particularly happy, but behind me was a waiter with a tray of strawberry tarts. In the next picture, I was rolling my eyes upward as I munched on one.

I swatted at Maxon. "You took a picture of me while I was _eating_?"

"Yes," he laughed. "I liked you; I wanted to catch you in the moments where I knew I liked you best. And those became harder and harder to capture, since I started to like you no matter what you were doing."

As I flipped through, I saw pictures of me and Marlee walking in the gardens together, and one while we worked on a project at the beginning of the Selection. In both we were laughing, holding our stomachs and wiping tears from our eyes.

Later, there was a picture of me at Kriss' birthday party, playing the violin. And then a picture of me as he had come to my room, surprising me. I gave him an accusing look at that one, but I couldn't help smiling.

There were a few times as I filtered through the pictures that tears came to my eyes, like when I first saw Marlee after her caning, and one where I was in the Women's room, laughing with his mom.

All these little moments, all these memories he kept of me, and he wanted me to have them – not because he wanted me to have all these pictures of myself to look at, but so I would understand how much he loved me, and how much these moments meant to him.

Of anything I'd ever received, this gift was the best. It proved how real and deep his affections for me were. I could never repay him for it.

"Thank you," I whispered, closing the lid. My eyes were burning with unshed tears.

"You know, there are moments I regret not capturing – those will have to come from memory. But there is one I wish I had, that I will never forgive myself for not having," he said, reaching up to stroke my cheek with his thumb.

"Which one?" I whispered back.

"The night I met you," he confided. "If you had looked at me the first moment I saw you, I would have been so embarrassed – I was so taken aback by you. I think I told you once before, but after I left the garden, I came straight to my balcony and waited until you walked back inside. And not because I was scared or worried for you, although that was something to consider. But I did it because I was so drawn to you. I found myself looking forward to breakfast the next day, just so I could see your face again."

"Maxon," I mumbled through my tears.

He smiled, wiping a stray tear. "Though I don't know if a picture would matter anyway. I will never forget it."

"I love you so much," I said, wrapping my arms around him.

"I hope you know how much I love you," he said hopefully.

I nodded my head, playing with the hair at the back of his neck. He pulled me to him, holding me tightly. We lay back against the sheets, not letting go of each other. Our hearts beat together in time, and when I finally heard Maxon's steady breathing beside me, I smiled, looking forward to each night I would have with him like this.

Our relationship wasn't perfect by any means – we had been brought together in the most unconventional way, and our hearts had been torn and pulled in so many different predicaments and places, but we still managed to find each other.

If I had to bet, I would say our relationship was stronger than anyone's, and regardless of what happened, our love was not something that could be compromised or taken away. It would only grow with time, and I hoped we would have a lot of just that.

So I took advantage of the time we had now and kissed his cheek, letting myself settle into the crook of his neck as I fell asleep in his arms.

THE END

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**Don't forget to review if you'd like me to continue with one-shots - I would love to keep diving into Maxon and America's world. **


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